Secret of the Shadow Track
by Liliwen
Summary: Artha is trapped in the Shadow Track, but this time, he is trapped for 15 years. He escapes to find the world engulfed by war and a people who no longer believe in the Dragon Booster. Can he be the hero they need and stop the final plot to end it all?
1. Introduction

-1Here's a Dragon Booster fanfic, which is going to be a long one, about how Artha is trapped in the Shadow Track for 20 years. The first one or two, or five chapters is before he gets stuck, and then I'll write about when he finally gets out. Yay! Reviews are always appreciated.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Dragon Booster. sniff

Artha ducked as Moordryd's mag-staff swung in an arc over his head. He pushed himself up and barely blocked another one of Moordryd's attacks. With a groan of frustration he pushed his rival away and nudged Beau to the left of the track. Thankfully, instead of pursuing him, Moordryd stayed on the opposite side of the raceway. Artha looked down at Beau and groaned.

"Artha," Parm said, appearing in Artha's VIDD-screen.

"I know, Beau's energy…"

"Is nearly gone. If you keep fighting Moordryd like this, you won't have enough to finish the race," lectured Parm. Artha tore his eyes from the screen and focused on maneuvering Beau past the obstacles. Decepshun put on a burst of speed and took first place. Artha fell in right behind and followed Moordryd around a turn. "Once you're in the academy, you can't get carried away with winning little fights."

"What?" Artha said incredulously. "I'm just defending myself. He's the one attacking. He won't stop." Parm shook his head and wagged his finger.

"No excuses."

Artha rolled his eyes. "You're starting to sound like my dad."

"I am not!"

Artha grinned at his best friend.

Parm turned to look down at Lance. "Am I?"

Lance just shrugged and peeled the wrapper off yet another draconee-yum bar. "Sure starting to sound like it."

Parm grunted and checked the map with a sour expression on his face. "A few more turns Artha, then a straight. Watch out, because there's an extremely sharp right hand turn, and then the finish line. Can you sneak in front?"

"Ahhh…" Artha thought frantically. "I think so. I have an idea!"

"He has an idea!" Lance echoed with his mouth full of draconee goodness.

"Great!" Parm looked at the floor and after a few seconds mumbled to Lance and Artha.

"Am not…"

Artha stayed right on Decepshun's tail past several more turns. Moordryd looked behind once, and the mixture of frustration and annoyance gave Artha a burst of confidence. Moordryd moved to the left of the track, and Artha went to the right. The oncoming turn that he was rushing towards banked harshly to the right, and ran back alongside the track.

Artha stayed near the side and made sure he was just behind Moordryd. He didn't want to get too close or too far. He glanced quickly beside him. On his right, the finish flashed by as he raced past it.

Moordryd was nearing the bend and was preparing to turn into it. Artha hung his finger over the button for the white rappel gear. He watched Moordryd intently and waited for the right moment. His finger lingered a second longer, then…

_Now_! Artha thought and pressed hard. The gear shot out ahead, past him and Moordryd, and clung to the bank of the turn. Artha's timing couldn't be better. Moordryd was racing up on the embankment, and failed to see the rappel gear stretched across his path in time. Descepshun ran straight into it, causing it to snap. The 12-tonne dragon stumbled and fell, and slid into the side of the track. Artha smiled. The race was his.

As soon as the white gear shot past his line of sight, Moordryd had frantically tried to make Decepshun jump over, for it was too late to activate his thrusters. Unfortunately, Decepshun had seen it just when Moordryd did. When she felt the taunt line of the rappel gear hit her front legs and snap, she did her best to maintain her footing. She landed heavily on her left side and the impact drove the air out of her lungs. With what control she had left, she frantically tried to avoid hurting and crushing Moordryd. She flipped over several times before hitting the side of the track with a violent thud. She laid on her left side and remained on the track, dazed.

Moordryd groaned in anger from the appalling fall, and put his hand to his head. He tried to get up, but was forced to quickly duck when Artha and Beau thundered past, inches from his head. He yelled in vexation and urged Decepshun to get up and run, knowing all too well that the race had been lost.

Decepshun got up as quick as she could, and using all the strength she could muster, jumped back into a sprint towards the finish. Moordryd just barely made second place as Kitt finished a close third. His dislike, and almost hatred, of the stable brat intensified as he heard the thunderous applause of the crowd aimed at the fantastic win by Artha Penn. Applause which should've been for him. He had been leading for most of the race. He could just see his father hanging his head in shame at yet another loss by his son.

Artha felt exhilarated as Beau ran proudly across the finish, running like it had been no big deal. He pumped his hands up in the air and smiled as the roar from the crowd grew larger. His VIDD-screen came to life.

"Did you see that?" Artha quickly blurted before Parm or Lance could say anything.

"Great move Artha!" Parm said.

"Yeah! That was really drac!" Lance agreed.

Parm leaned forward excitedly. "And now thanks to your latest win…" Artha had to grin at that. "…Moordryd is only one point ahead. Win the next race, and you're both tied to go into the final race."

"In which I shall come home as the victor." Artha stated. Beau snorted and looked up at him. "Oops, I mean, in which _we_, shall come home ever victorious!" Beau nodded his head, satisfied with with his revised statement.

"But if you fail to beat Moordryd, you'll be out of the running for the academy." Parm stated, and Artha sighed at his friend's dismal words. He slowed Beau to a walk, then stopped when he saw the third place finisher come.

"Parm, don't worry." Artha said and looked up as Kitt and Wyldfyr approached.

"Nice move with Moordryd back there." Kitt put a hand on her hip and looked Artha straight in the eye. "For a minute there I thought he had you." Artha looked at her in disbelief.

"What? Oh come on."

"What?"

"Moordryd never 'has' me. I can beat him easy."

Of course, Artha's objection didn't fool Kitt "And of course," she said slyly, "you let him lead most of the race I suppose."

"Well, yeah. I… just… wanted him to get … overconfident."

"Uh huh. Sure. And I'm guessing you let Cain bump you down to last place at the beginning too."

"…sure. I just wanted to make a comeback, that's all." Beau rolled his eyes and shook his head, almost making Artha fall at the unexpected movement. Kitt and Wyldfyr both laughed but stopped when they saw Artha staring past them.

"Time to rub it in." Artha said and stretched his arms. Beau grinned. Being the dragon of legend didn't mean he couldn't flaunt his victories once in a while. Kitt followed Artha's eyes and saw Moordryd and Cain on their dragons. To her amusement, Moordryd was practically seething.

"Why Moordryd, there you are." Artha said, much too polite. Moordryd sneered in response as Artha approached. "Are you okay? I mean, that fall must have really, really hurt."

"Don't fret your tiny little brain about it. If I were you, I'd be more worried about watching your back in the next race."

Artha sighed, "I suppose, but I can't help it, I'm a nice guy." Artha spread his arms helplessly. "I mean, you were winning the entire race. And you only lose because of a simple trick by me?" Moordryd narrowed his eyes and fumed. Artha interrupted him when he tried to speak by continuing. "If I were _you_, I'd be worried about making it into the academy." Beau looked at Moordryd and Decepshun and nodded his head to add further support to Artha's point. Decepshun hissed back at him.

Moordryd growled and pointed his finger at Artha as he spoke in a low, threatening voice. "Don't forget Penn, if you don't beat me in the next race, there's no way you'll make it into the academy. And trust me, you'll be lucky if you even finish the race." His cold grey eyes convoyed the threat better than his words.

But Artha was unaffected by Moordryd's threats, as they bounced harmlessly of his shield of self-confidence. "Back to threatening me again, are we?"

Moordryd stared hard at Artha, weighing in his mind whether it would be better to leave now, or to continue on with this conversation. Artha smiled triumphantly back, causing Moordryd to grind his teeth. His wrist-comm beeped, indicating a waiting message.

"Come on, Cain." Moordryd finally grunted while glaring at Artha. "We have to go." They raced off, leaving the other two to cough in the billowing cloud of dust.

"You know," Kitt said as she waved here hand in front of her face to clear the dust, "you might want to take his threats a bit more seriously."

Artha looked at where Moordryd and Cain disappeared to. "I guess." Then he brightened and looked back at Kitt and smiled. "But I do have one of the top racers watching my back out on the track."

"Yeah, you do. Do you know how lucky you are, stable boy?" Kitt grinned.

"Artha!" Lance shouted as he and Parm finally reached them.

"Hey!" Artha greeted them.

"What was all that with Moordryd?" Parm inquired.

"You know, the usual. I beat him, he gets mad, I beat him again…. Life is good."

"You haven't beaten him yet." Parm pointed out.

"You don't think I can?"

"Of course you can, as long as Moordryd plays fair."

"He wouldn't dare cheat on an academy qualifying race."

"You sure?"

"Well…"

"I mean," Parm continued, "Who's to say he wasn't involved in framing us? Remember? Oh sure, it was all the Shadow Booster's doing. But Moordryd knows the Shadow Booster, he's said so himself. You were thrown in jail," he pointed at Kitt, then Artha, "and you were being chased by Dragon City Security. Remember?"

"No I don't. When was Kitt arrested?" Artha asked innocently. Lance barely stifled a laugh as Parm scowled.

"But it's not just on the raceway, where you have to watch out." Kitt said. "You can count on him doing something sneaky off track."

"Guys, I know." Artha looked at them all. "We'll all be alert."

"Extremely alert!" Lance said and peered around intensively.

Artha chuckled. "What could happen with this kind of surveillance?" Parm and Kitt looked at each other worriedly. Moordryd was unpredictable, and getting into the academy was extremely important for Artha's training. What wouldn't happen?

**Word Paynn's citadel.**

His footsteps echoed throughout the citadel as he approached the empty chair bathed in artificial light from the numerous monitors. The monitors flickered with imagery. Some were tuned into Dragon City news and a few others showed the entrance to the citadel. But the majority were focused on everyday life in mid city. Moordryd cringed inside when the last monitor kept replaying the day's race. He criticized himself for not looking behind and for under-estimating Artha Penn. He should know by know that he wasn't your everyday average rookie with an ordinary dragon. Moordryd waited patiently in his usual place, watching the monitors. Until something on the desk caught his eye.

The desk was beneath the screens, presenting an open folder with papers spilling out. He thought this rather odd, even more than the fact that his father was absent. Word was never one to leave any type of document lying in the open, no matter its importance. He glanced around. Memories and warnings kept resurfacing in his mind, as his conscience screamed at him to leave it be. As it turns out, curiosity can capture more than a cat.

He held his breath, and only the steady hum of the machines reached his ears. They had never seemed so loud before. His footsteps too, rang with unprecedented sound as he approached the papers. He took a step up onto the dais, and reached out a hand to move the papers from atop one another. He was surprised to see that they all contained mention of the Shadow Track. The majority were written in his father's elegant scribbling, describing the black shadow draconium found within. One file questioned the draconium's ability to entrap humans forever and to release them with no signs of aging. As his eyes further scanned the paper, he noticed that Word kept coming back to this. It seemed as though he wanted to control its strange power. He wasn't surprised about that. His father wanted to control everything.

He paused. His father would never leave anything like this simply lying in plain sight, even if it was in the comfort of his citadel. And the way the papers were scattered looked as if he had left in a hurry. Perhaps he meant to come back really soon…

"Interesting?" Moordryd started and bumped one of the screens with his elbow as he jumped back. His father was standing inches from him, tapping his fingers and claws together in annoyance.

"Uh, ah…" Moordyd stumbled, mortified at having been discovered. Word stared him down, until finally, Moordyd got the hint and returned to his usual spot behind the chair. Word picked up the papers and carefully put them back into the folder, stretching the silence between them. "What was that?" Moordryd demanded more than asked, after he regained his composure.

His father paused a moment to look in his general direction, then carefully placed the papers inside the file. "Nothing that would benefit you." Moordryd frowned as his father seated himself on his throne.

Moordryd changed the subject. "What is it you want now?"

"What I want? What I want is to start the next dragon-human war."

"Well, why did you call me?"

"So you would come here." Word focused his attention on the screens. Moordyrd barely covered an exasperated sigh. This time he chose his words more carefully.

"What do you want to tell me?"

Word turned his chair to face his son. "Many things." He stared into Moordryd's eyes as he went on. "The first of which…how to be rid of the Dragon Booster, once and for all."

Moordryd was unmoved. "And how do you plan on doing it this time?" Word simply smiled and Moordryd looked away, as he couldn't bare to stare into those evil eyes any longer.


	2. Plot Revealed

Apparently here's chapter two. J

_Chapter 2: Plot Revealed_

"The Shadow Track."

"What?" Moordryd was caught off guard. "The Shadow Track?" Word settled back in his chair with a grim expression on his face as Moordryd's voice rose in pitch. "The Shadow Track?"

"Did I not speak clearly? Yes, the Shadow Track." Word hissed the last part.

"What? Why?"

"Because, as you may have noticed, I have been…observing it. Studying it, if you will." Moordryd had the sense to look ashamed as Word scowled at him. "Learning how it works… and discovering its potential." He spoke the last part in a near whisper, so soft that Moordryd barely heard it. Word obviously had not meant for him to hear, so Moordryd gave no hint that he had.

"Don't you mean worked? It was destroyed." Moordryd smartly asked as Word stayed silent. "How can it help?"

"There is something you must understand, Moordryd." Word now adopted a lecturing tone of voice. "When the Dragon Booster, young Lance Penn, Cain and yourself escaped from the Shadow Track, yes, it was broken. But black shadow draconium is a strange, powerful thing. A mysterious thing. The track was broken, but not destroyed. Even as you left, it started to grow again."

"So the Shadow Track will once again be as it was before?"

"Correct, but I do not know how long it will take until it returns to its former state."

"So it's useless until then."

"No. That is where you are wrong. Again." Moordryd scowled slightly as his father held up a claw to silence any rebuttal he might give. "Touching black shadow draconium traps you in the illusions. The Shadow Track was completely covered in it. But the amount and purity of black shadow draconium in the track varied from place to place. In parts where it was at its lowest gave the weak nightmares. Illusions that are easily confronted and defeated. When you and the others were trapped within, you were lucky enough to touch only the places where it was at its utmost lowest. Indeed, if your dragon, Decepshun, had moved her foot several more feet to the right, she would have touched a vein of draconium so rich and pure, that it would create fantasies so unimaginably horrible, that you would never be able to conquer them." Word paused, waiting for his son's reaction.

Moordryd unknowingly complied. His jaw dropped slightly as he recalled the track, and the lingering danger he never knew. The stuttering and uncertainty in his voice proved it evermore. "How…how do you know all this?"

"Do not question my methods." Word said abruptly. He stood and walked over to the desk and laid his clawed hands on the folder that still rested there. "In places where the draconium was at its purest and most dangerous state, it is growing at an alarming rate. Those places are now fully functional, and can entrap the Dragon Booster with far more dreadful and compelling illusions than before. More compelling by far."

"So what you're saying is, all the black shadow draconium in the Shadow Track is gone at the moment. Except for a few places where it still works?"

"Yes, but these places are few. The majority of the Shadow Track is still inactive. Therefore it may take a bit of searching on your part to trap the Dragon Booster. Once he touches the draconium, it will instantly ensnare him." He balled his claws into a fist, and a gleam of victory entered his eyes.

"Me?" At his son's condescending question, Word's expression turned from one of triumph to one of frustration. "How will I know where the active draconium is? How will I even get in?" Moordryd asked. But what he really wanted to know was, _Is there any chance of me getting captured again? Would you care if I got trapped? _

"As for the first, I have this." Word pulled a strange gear from his robes. It was a purple and black circle, possessing two long grey handles which stuck out from opposite sides. The screen in the middle glowed an eerie green colour. "This will scan the track and will show you where the working draconium is." He handed the gear over to Moordryd, who took it, illustrating to Word that Moordryd had accepted this mission. Not that he had much of a choice. "I want that gear back if you return." Word added in the last part as a side thought, which answered the rest of Moordryd's questions.

"But…"

"As for the last part, the Shadow Track opens only when the moons are in alignment. This creates a certain gravitational pull that reveals the entrance for a time. This," Word stepped over to a mag-rack, and took off another piece of gear. He turned it around in his hands as feeble light flickered off its polished finish. It was a simple dark purple sphere. "This will open the track by creating an isolated field of…" He stopped and glanced at Moordryd. His son had never been one to understand the workings of any type of gear. He grimaced and simply said, "Well, this will trick the track into opening." He walked over to Moordryd and gave it to him. Moordryd held one gear in each of his hand. He looked from one to the other. Word became impatient and loudly asked, "Is something wrong?"

"Hmm? No." Moordryd said without looking up. Word glared at him.

"This isn't too… difficult is it?" This made Moordryd look up angrily.

"Of course not, father."

"We shall see. We shall see." He repeated as he returned to his chair.

Moordryd looked at the gears again then crossly looked at his father, who was now watching him closely. "What if the Dragon Booster gets out again? What if he defeats his fears? What then?"

"If he is trapped in the Shadow Track, as I've told you before, his fears will be greater than before."

"I know, but…"

"It is unlikely that he will overcome them, but if he does manage this and breaks free, he will find the entrance blocked."

"Now how is that going to ha…"

"Because the side of the cliff is going to fall directly onto the entrance. Even you can plant a few timed bombs." Word stated very slowly. "Now, is all of this too much for you too handle?"

"Never."

"Good. I also want you to bring me back some samples of black shadow draconium."

"What for? Don't you have one?"

"Yes, but it not enough. I need more. Make sure you bring an ample supply." Moordryd started to question this, than thought better of it. Word wouldn't tell him what he needed it for. But it was clear from the papers on his desk that Word was on to something. Moordryd couldn't fathom what, or what the draconium's potential could be. But Word knew. And he was most likely hoping to use it for his war. A war that Moordryd wasn't even certain he wanted to be a part of anymore. But until all this happened, until his true destiny came, he would help his father. He too, wanted to see the Dragon Booster gone forever.

"He'll be trapped before the night is over."

"Make it by four."

"What?"

"I want the Dragon Booster trapped before 4:00. Before the afternoon edition of Dragon City news."

"But I race again at four."

"I'm aware of that."

Moordryd looked at him helplessly. "That only gives me a few hours."

"Then why are you tarrying here?" Word swiveled his chair around to face the monitors. Moordryd backed away slowly. His father didn't turn around, and to Moordryd's relief, didn't discuss the day's race. He was fine with that. Either his father was too disappointed to mention it, or he just didn't care. But still, Moordryd yearned to redeem himself. If he could lock up the Dragon Loser _and_ win the next race, his father was sure to be impressed. He left with a twisted smile on his face. Now to call Cain and deal with what had to be done.

Word turned and watched Moordryd walk out of the citadel. He tapped his fingers together and sat deep in thought. He was sure he could trust Moordryd with this. After all, his son hated the Dragon Booster as much as him. But what would happen after was a complete mystery. Something he could only guess at. This was the last 'quest' his son would go on for him. He couldn't trust him any further. If his plans with the draconium went well, and by well he meant didn't kill him, he wouldn't need his worthless son anymore. It was almost a pity. Moordryd tried so hard to impress him, always trying, never succeeding. It was pathetic as well. Word comforted himself with the fact that soon, he would no longer have that meddling imbecile haunting his every step. Who knew how much information Armaggeddon received from his son. Moordryd had been useful, for a while. He suddenly laughed. His haunted laughter reverberated off the walls and filled the entire citadel. Soon no one would be able to stand in his way.


	3. Baited Hook

-1

Here's chapter three!

Moordryd had called Cain as quick as he could. They both had raced through Down City, Shadow Town, Work Town and the better part of Mid City as well. Though when they had approached Precinct, they slowed to a gallop, one that seemed casual enough to Moordryd. They couldn't have Dragon City Security sending Gargoyle Pursuit Dragons after them. They just didn't have the time for that.

In Mid City, Cain had whined at first about going so fast in the streets. They were busier than normal, as well they should be. People were flocking to see the most intense and exciting races of the season. They always came at the end, and now that there was a rivalry between two racers, with only one position available in the academy, the streets were at a standstill. Which created a problem for the two anxious Dragon Eyes. Moordryd knew he had little time to spare, as he had yet to go all the way to the Shadow Track, go into it, blow up the side of the cliff, and then came all the way back. And still make it in time for his race, which he then had to race with what energy Decepshun had left. He didn't know how long it would take to get the Dragon Booster trapped. He supposed it depended on how soon he could find active draconium in the track. And the sooner the better. They took the little known back streets and alley-ways, avoiding the heavy traffic, and when need be, jumping over slow-moving dragons or forcing them to move. Which was done with little or no problem. Being leader of the feared Dragon Eyes could give a person a certain reputation in the city.

Later, after being chased by Dragon City Security only once, which was surprising considering their antics in the streets, they sat on their dragons not too far from Penn Stables. Cain sat idly, fiddling with his mag-staff which he had lain across his saddle. They were waiting.

"Do you see them Moordryd? Because I sure don't." Cain said sardonically. Moordryd kept his face calm, suppressing an instinctive sneer. Cain got really irritating when he was bored.

"They'll come." Moordryd said through gritted teeth. He was more frustrated and impatient than bored, and Cain's overstated sigh agitated him further. Moordryd glared at Cain to let him know it was not appreciated. "Rancydd said only a few more minutes, Cain. Keep watching!"

Since Moordryd had Dragon Eyes all over the city, it wasn't too long before he had located some of the stable brats. Kitt and Artha were racing on one of the tracks with Chute, who had apparently decided to spare time from her own busy academy schedule to help Artha tone his skills. Since they were racing, Moordryd couldn't very well use them in his plan. Mini-brat and the egg-head, however, were ready to be duped. Rancydd was following them as they returned to Penn Stables from who knows where. The plan was simple: he and Cain would talk about getting more black shadow draconium from the Shadow Track, acting like it was a big secret no one should know. Lance and Parm would overhear, and, not knowing they were doing exactly as Moordryd wanted, call the Dragon Booster to stop them before they entered the Shadow Track. Then Moordryd would trap him in there. He was sure it would work…if they would get here! Already they had paused to watch the ending of a race, stop to buy candy, browse around a gear shop and talk to Race Marshall Budge about the day's race. Moordryd was getting too impatient.

Suddenly, his VIDD-screen came to life. "Magna Draconis, they're finally moving." Rancydd said. He was not one to sit still. "They should be passing by you in a few seconds."

Moordryd sighed with relief. "Okay, get ready Cain." Cain nodded, excited as well. Rancydd disappeared along with Moordryd's VIDD-screen to continue with what job he had been on before following the stable brats. Moordryd and Cain backed into the shadows beside a huge building. The stable brats would walk right past, stop once they heard Cain and him talking in the alley, and race off to tell the Dragon Blunder. Already he could hear them.

"Lance," Parm was saying as they approached, "I can't believe you did that. Who knows what it'll do to you."

"Chill, Parm," Moordryd heard Lance speak, "Dragonola bars don't make people sick if they eat them."

"Yes, but ten? Lance you really shouldn't have…"

"I feel drac. I'm fine, really." Lance protested and Parm huffed as he gave in.

"Ready?" Moordryd whispered to Cain, who nodded. Now Moordryd could see their faint shadows as the brats came as far as he wanted them to.

"You can't go back there, Moordryd. The Shadow Track is still dangerous." Cain started in a voice loud enough to be overheard. Parm and Lance's conversation immediately halted, as did their shadows. Moordryd grinned and looked back at Cain.

"But I have to," he responded, "my father needs some samples of black shadow draconium to experiment on."

"But what ever for, Moordryd? What ever could he use it for?" Cain asked in reply and then gasped and put his hands to his face. "You don't mean? Oh, dear, you do, don't you?" Moordryd could only stare at Cain. "Will he use it for something…dangerous? O what has befallen us?" Moordryd was ready to punch him. Instead, he had to make do with glowering at him.

"Of course you idiot! My father will use it to get rid of the Dragon Booster once and for all!"

"But I thought you were going to…" Cain started before Moordryd whacked him over the head with Cain's own mag-staff. Cain rubbed his head and glared back, point taken as he grabbed for his staff. "So once he experiments with them, he'll be able to destroy the Dragon Booster? Drac. But how will you get in? Isn't the track destroyed?"

"The track isn't dangerous any longer." Moordryd smiled when he heard Parm's sharp gasp. Those brats really needed to learn how to be quiet. "And as for getting in…you have the gear, don't you?"

"Oh, yes." Cain said as if he had forgotten.

"With that gear we'll be able to trick the track into opening and get the draconium. Cain, when we get there, I want you to scout the eastern side."

"No where else?"

"Why? The eastern side is the place where the Hydrags are most likely to get at us. I want you to make sure they stay away. No one else knows what we're doing."

"Is that why no one else from our crew is coming?"

"Exactly. They have jobs to do and would be just useless if they came. Come on, we have to finish this before the race this afternoon." Moordryd pushed forward on the handles and headed down the alley, with Cain following close behind, chuckling. Their dragons lumbered beside each other as Moordryd stared straight ahead. This wouldn't work if he looked behind and had one of the brats notice he knew they overheard. He tried telling Cain this with his eyes, and Cain seemed to understand. At least he didn't turn around. One of the brats was sure to peek around the corner at them.

Parm dared a peek around the corner at the two dragon riders. "Magna Draconis," he whispered. Lance tugged at his arm.

"We have to tell Artha! Now! Moordryd's going there. Now!" Lance looked up at his tall friend with worried eyes. Parm nodded and checked his pockets.

"Oh no. Where's my wrist-comm? Oh dear. I don't think we can afford to spare the time going to the track if Moordryd is heading there now. This is awful, just awful…"

"Parm!" Lance wailed.

"What?"

"It's on your wrist!" Parm glanced at his wrist.

"Of course." He said sheepishly. He hated it when he got nervous, he just couldn't think properly. Lance wasn't amused.

"Call him!" He insisted. Parm obeyed by contacting Artha. He groaned in frustration.

"He's probably racing right now, Lance! He won't pick up if he's racing." Parm tried again as Lance stamped his foot in frustration. Black shadow draconium was very dangerous. Parm had no idea what Word would do with it, but he knew it was going to be bad. But the Shadow Track? Magna Draconis, that place was an even bigger mystery. They had little or no time. Moordryd and Cain were headed there right now, and Parm knew they would finish what they wanted as quick as they could so they could make it back in time for the race. Why Moordryd wanted this done before the race confused Parm. His only answer was that Word really wanted that gear. Word struck Parm as a usually patient man. But Word was probably too excited to get the draconium samples, which meant he knew what to do with them, which meant as soon as he received them he would start construction on his diabolical plan. And if he was this impatient, it must mean that he had an extremely diabolical plan, one that would be hard to counter, if at all possible. Now he was rambling, which he always seemed to do when he was nervous and he just couldn't think with all these thoughts and possibilities ringing in his head. Too many problems with not enough solutions. He tried calling Artha again after his second attempt failed and willed Artha to pick up. All of a sudden the screen popped up green, showing a very annoyed Artha.

What?" Was his immediate question.

"Uh," Parm stuttered, wondering where to begin. Artha examined his face.

"You okay? You looked like you've just seen the Murhota!"

"It's not that! It's Moordryd!"

"What's he doing now?" For a moment Artha looked beside him, probably at Kitt or Chute. Parm took a deep breath. He should start at the beginning, and the sooner the better.


	4. Into the Crypt of Time

Thanks to all who reviewed, and to all who haven't yet, get started! Lol, this chapter is kinda short, next will be longer, I promise.

_Chapter 4: Into the Crypt of Time_

Coershun and Decepshun skidded to a halt, spraying dust into the dank air. Above, deep clouds of grey loomed depressingly and hindered what faint light appeared from cheering up the place. Great obsolete statues and broken formations gave a finishing touch to the already overwhelming feeling of dread and ancient history. They looked up before them at a familiar place. Coershun shrank back and glanced to his partner for support. Decepshun snorted at his timid behavior and glared at the track. She wouldn't let it cow her again so easily. She was stronger now, and besides, she wouldn't get caught this time. She felt Moordryd shift on the saddle above. She smelt his apprehension, which was understandable for anyone who had been in the Shadow Track before. But what made her proud to have him as her rider was the limited amount of fear she sensed, along with the determination he always had hidden.

Cain, on the other hand, was as petrified as his dragon. He glanced around warily, eyes searching every shadowed corner and hidden cranny. Decepshun sighed. Cain and Coershun fed off each other's fears. Though they were a great team and loyal friends, it wasn't the least bit helpful to anyone when they acted in such ways. Moordryd was aware of this also, and glanced over at his friend.

"Cain, be glad I'm not making you go in there."

Cain paused his search and turned to Moordryd. "But I'll have to stay out here alone with the Hydrags," he looked behind him and continued in a low voice, "and who knows what else?"

"Would you rather have stayed at the compound?"

Cain paused before replying. "No." For all his cowardly acts, Cain was someone Moordryd could count on. Of course, he might run at the slightest provocation of danger, but until that happened he was right at Moordryd's side. The silence that followed was broken by Moordryd's harsh voice.

"Just get to the eastern side and don't let the Dragon Booster know you see him. He's getting closer." Moordryd looked at the scanner he had on his left arm. Much like the one in the compound, it scanned for gold draconium. The Dragon Booster had appeared a few minutes ago, and since the scanner had a long range, Moordryd was knew he was coming even though he was still far away. It was time to open the track before the Dragon Booster took away the gear. He put his hand into his jacket and pulled out the sphere his father had given him.

"Be careful in the track." Cain said just as Moordryd started moving forward.

Moordryd stopped and glanced over at him. "Be careful the Hydrags don't eat you." He smirked as Decepshun trotted over to the middle of the clearing. Cain sighed. He was used to his mocking tone, and in turn, he used the same attitude towards Moordryd. It was a friendly sort of disrespect they had going towards each other. Cain prodded Coershun into a gallop to the eastern side of the clearing, where he would simply sit and 'not notice' the Dragon Booster's coming. Though if the Dragon Booster came out of the track without Moordryd, he would have to do something about that. Not that it was likely to happen.

Decepshun walked over to the monument in front of the track's entrance. It's ominous presence dominated the small clearing. Moordryd hopped off his dragon, and checked his scanner again. The Dragon Booster was getting closer. He must be racing at top speed. Moordryd smiled. If this worked, he must remember to thank the stable brats for their invaluable help.

Focusing his attention on the odd ball he had in his hand, he bent down near the monument. He placed the gear on the ground on the opposite side of the statue from where the Shadow Track lay. He activated it, then stepped back, not sure how far back he should safely be. Cain watched from afar. The gear blinked once with yellow lights which encircled the entire orb, and then went silent. The lights came back, starting from a faint glow to a bright glare. It caused the statue to cast a shadow onto the track's entrance, just like the last time, when the moons cast the very same shadow on the very same place. Then it emitted a pulse that rippled through the air. Moordryd half raised his hands to shield himself from it. There was no need, as the ripple raced off harmlessly into the distance.

That must have been recreating the gravitational pull the moons had caused before, Moordryd guessed. And, like the time before, and all the countless other times before that, the Shadow Track opened.

"It worked!" Moordryd exclaimed, somewhat relieved. He looked over at where Cain and Coershun were watching. They were amazed too. But at a glare from Moordryd, they quickly 'watched' the eastern side.

Decepshun magged Moordryd on, and started walking towards the opening. Moordryd pulled out the other gear his father had given him and turned it on. It hummed softly then went silent, showing a virtual representation of the world in its screen. He pointed it into the Shadow Track and grunted in appreciation. No active draconium was near the entrance. He wondered how deep into the track he would have to go before finding some. After checking the scanner on his arm, Decepshun and he entered the Shadow Track for the second time. The Dragon Booster watched from the shadows at the opposite end of the clearing.


	5. Trapped in the Track

-1Thanks to all who reviewed!

_Chapter 5:Trapped in the Track_

Artha had arrived just in time to see the track open. Kitt, Lance and Parm and their dragons watched from behind a fallen column.

"Magna Draconis, what can't Word invent?" Parm whispered. A silent agreement passed between the good guys as they solemnly nodded slightly. Artha watched Moordryd disappear into the Shadow Track.

"So much for stopping him before he gets in." Artha mused. "Come on boy, ready to go?" Beau nodded. He was always ready. "We don't have much time, we have to make sure he doesn't pick anything up." Artha glanced back at his crew, "you guys stay here and watch Cain. Hyaah!" Beau leapt into a mad dash towards the entrance.

"What? Oh…Artha, be very careful!" Parm called after, making sure his voice wasn't loud enough for Cain to overhear. "Where are you going?" He asked as he turned to see Wyldfyr mag Kitt on.

"Isn't it better if he has some help in there?" She called down to Lance and Parm. Wyldfyr sped off after the Dragon of Legend before they could respond.

"Uh, yes, I suppose." Parm said to the air after she left.

"Now we're all alone out here." Lance said to Parm. Parm glanced around, realizing that they were indeed alone, save for their dragons. "Oh, my." He said.

Artha and Beau thundered recklessly past the gear which was maintaining the doorway. The vibrations in the ground shook it, and the lights winked out as it rolled to the side. As it laid dead, the entrance to the Shadow Track began to close. Beau's eyes widened in surprise. "The doorway, it's closing! Faster!" Artha said in surprise. Beau snorted and increased his pace.

"What? No!" Kitt cried atop Wyldfyr as she noticed the shrinking entrance. Beau gave a mighty effort and leapt through the entrance just as it snapped with a close. Kitt pulled back on the handles and Wyldfyr slid to a stop just before the now solid rock-face. "Artha?" She said, though she knew no answer would come. A slight wind howled past her ears and kicked up clouds of dust. To her surprise, an eerie chuckle drifted along with it. She looked at the eastern side and saw Cain, mounted on Coershun. His shoulders were shaking faintly. All Kitt could do was whisper an unbelieving no to what she now knew. It had been a trap.

When Beau landed, he skidded for a few more feet before he came to an absolute stop. Artha and he looked back. "Woah, now that was close." Artha breathed. Beau silently agreed. Artha turned his attention to what he came for. The Dragon Booster couldn't dwell on things that were in the past and not accomplish what had to be done in the present. Artha took in a sharp intake of breath as he realized his first dilemma. He couldn't find Moordryd. The Shadow Track ran on before him in an ominous series of passages. It was easy to get lost. He glanced down one, and then another. Beau stared hard down each one too until, finally, he saw Decepshun's tail disappear around a corner. A victorious glint entered his eyes, and he trotted to the place. "Nice going, boy." Artha praised. Beau grinned.

When the Dragon Blunder had jumped into the track, Moordryd immediately went down a random chosen passage with the scanner held up before him. He definitely did not want to run into any active draconium. That was the Dragon Booster's job. He glanced behind him. The Dragon Booster was no where to be seen. His eye's narrowed in frustration. He urged Decepshun back to the beginning of the opening, and peeked around the corner. To his utter annoyance, the Dragon Booster was looking down every other passage way trying to find him.

"For dragon's sake…" He silently muttered. He nodded to Decepshun, who scraped her claws on the ground to make the idiot look in his direction, then made sure her tail was clearly visible as she reentered the passage. Moordryd listened carefully and was relieved to hear the Dragon of Legend amble in his direction. "Let's just make sure he doesn't come too close, or doesn't lose us." He said to his dragon. Decepshun nodded.

As Beau picked up his pace, Decepshun went faster too, which concerned Moordryd. They were nearly galloping around the corners and turns by now. If there was any functioning draconium hidden around the bend, there would be no time to stop.

Beau looked on in annoyance as Decepshun barely remained in his view. "They know we're following and we're getting in too deep. Let's end this chase now!" Artha whispered to Beau. Beau agreed with Artha. They were too deep into the Shadow Track, and it was hard to know their location with all the twists and turns. Getting lost was much too easy.

Beau roared and sprang forward around a bend. Decepshun glanced back and hissed as Beau leapt behind them. "What? Go, girl, go!" Moordryd said after his brief pause of surprise. He had been hoping the Dragon Booster would stay behind until he actually found the draconium. Unfortunately, the scanner picked up nothing, and the track remained dead before him. Decepshun bounded down a narrow channel. Moordryd had to duck to avoid scraping his helmet on the ceiling. Beau followed close behind. Moordryd was beginning to wish he had brought more gear than the white rappel and red thruster he had on Decepshun. Perhaps he should have taken along some green ramming gear, it might have been useful.

Moordryd let Decepshun choose the passages while he frantically searched with the scanner. He swept it from side to side, with no luck. Was there even any working draconium? How big was the Shadow Track? Decepshun ran into a large chamber. Moordryd gasped as he realized there was no other way out. Decepshun halted at the other end of the cavern and turned to face the Dragon Booster. Moordryd tucked the scanner into his jacket.

"Nice for you to stop. Let's talk shall we?" The Dragon Booster said while Beau held up his head to show his authority. Moordryd glowered at the hero as Decepshun took a step backwards.

Moordryd decided to play stupid until he decided what was the best way past was. "How did you find out about this?" He yelled back with mock anger. The Dragon Booster chuckled.

"It's my little secret, Paynn." He turned on a more serious tone and pointed his finger at the Dragon Eye. "What I want to know is, what does your father plan to do with black shadow draconium?"

"What he's going to do with it is none of your business."

"I think it's very much my business."

"I think you should start minding your own business."

"Well I think neither of us are leaving until you tell me."

"I think you think too much of yourself, Dragon Blunder." Moordryd sneered back as he emphasized the last part.

"This is your last warning before I put the pain on you, Paynn. What does Word want with black shadow draconium?" Beau took a threatening step forward and growled.

Moordryd and Decepshun were unfazed. He sighed. "Fine," he said as he showed his empty hands. "It doesn't matter whether you know or not."

"I very much doubt that," Artha retorted.

Moordryd chortled. "You won't be able to foil him this time. My father's plan is unstoppable."

"Like the rest of his so called 'plans'? What is it?"

"My father plans to…blind you!" Moordryd said suddenly as he held up his flash stick.

"Flash stick!" Artha yelled as he heroically stated the obvious. The white hot light filed his vision, and he was only dimly aware of being pushed to the side as Moordryd made good his escape. "Beau." Artha said as his dragon staggered a moment. Beau shook his head to rid himself of the spots that strayed in his eyes. A few precious seconds later, and the Dragon Booster was back in pursuit.

Moordryd chuckled again as he noticed the Dragon Booster once again behind him. He heedlessly maneuvered Decepshun around a corner. He gasped as the screen on the scanner in his hand sprang to life. Showing up in bright white in the screen and laying right across his path was the draconium, and he was headed to it quickly. "Jump, girl. Jump as far as you can!" Unable to see the scanner and the danger it displayed, she snorted in surprise, but jumped, nonetheless. She knew about the dangers, and it was her quick reaction that saved them.

Moordryd hung on as he looked down at the ground as Decepshun leapt. They sailed right over the active draconium, and landed safely on the other side. She screeched to a halt and stood, panting. Moordryd let out a breath he never knew he held. He looked back at where the draconium lay, or should. It looked no different than the rest of the track, which made it easier for the Dragon Booster to walk into. A noise caused him to look up.

"Stop right there!" The Dragon Booster said as he stood glaring at Moordryd.

"I don't believe this!" Moordryd whined softly as he realized that the hero was only a few steps from the draconium and not moving. Decepshun hissed and moved backwards a couple of steps, taunting Beau.

Beau advanced a couple of steps before stopping suspiciously. Something wasn't right. He growled in impatient frustration. "What is it?" Artha asked softly as he leaned over to look Beau in the eye. Beau didn't answer, as he himself didn't know what was wrong. He only knew he could sense danger, and it wasn't the duo before him.

Moordryd's grip on the handles tightened with irritation as Beau stopped and sniffed around. The Dragon Booster shot Moordryd a suspicious look. Moordryd could almost see his mind uncovering the reason why he was really here. "Time to finish this." Decepshun took the time from taunting the Dragon of Legend to quickly shoot him a questioning glance. Moordryd pressed hard on the button for his white rappel gear. It shot out and clutched Beau on the chest.

"Wha?" The Dragon Booster said in surprise. Moordryd grinned and Decepshun started to retract the gear, pulling Beau towards the draconium. Unfortunately, he only slid a few inches before planting his feet firmly and holding his ground. Now he knew something was really wrong here. He growled and with a great effort, took a step back, pulling Decepshun ahead.

Her eyes widened, and not wanting to be undone, retook her ground, yanking Beau back to where he started. Beau stared at her in surprise. He threw his weight back and pulled as hard as he could. Decepshun, in return, pulled as hard as she could. The line of the rappel gear vibrated with tension, threatening to snap. It wasn't made for tug-of-war with dragons.

Artha and Moordryd merely hung on and cheered for their respective dragons. "Come on 'cepshun, pull!" Decepshun lowered her head and tried to get a better footing.

"Beau, you can do it!" Encouraged, Beau started to gain the advantage, sliding Decepshun forwards. "Yes!" Artha cheered. He saw Moordryd glare at him. Artha thought he saw panic in his glaring, grey eyes. If that were so, Moordryd was apparently trying to pull him into something. But what? There was nothing in front of him. He looked around. There was nothing to the side or on top.

Moordryd noticed the Dragon Booster glance around as Decepshun slipped forward another inch. Her claws scraped on the ground. He held up the scanner, careful not to let the Dragon Booster see it. A few more feet and his dragon would touch the draconium. Time for red thruster gear. He flipped open the cover over the button and pressed. While he reversed them, Decepshun invoked the Vysox. With her eyes glowing red, it was easy to drag the dragon on the other end of the line.

"Beau, come on!" Artha called as Beau grunted in exertion and surprise. They were being pulled to an unknown danger, and if Artha or Beau had been aware of what it was, they would have been quicker to pull themselves free of Moordryd's grasp. Beau's claws scrapped on the floor as he slid forward.

Under her heavy expression of fatigue, Decepshun grinned in victory. Moordryd's sudden laugh worried Artha. Had Moordryd succeeded? Succeeded in what? Decepshun stopped pulling, as there was no need now. Moordryd held up his scanner in full view of the Dragon Booster. In the screen, Beau was standing right where the active black shadow draconium lay.

Moordryd laughed again, as Artha stared in puzzlement. What was he holding and why did it make him so happy? Tremors in the ground caused Artha and Beau to look around worridly. Chunks of rock fell from the ceiling as the track shook. Huge pieces barely missed hitting Artha.

"Hey, Dragon Loser!" Moordryd called. "Have fun with the shadows!"

"Nooooo!" Artha screamed before it was cut off by the draconium which now encased him. It snaked up from the ground and covered Beau and Artha at a horrific pace. Moordryd gasped as he saw the draconium climb along the rappel gear which still connected the two dragons. Decepshun noticed this and quickly fired a mag-blast, breaking the line. It fell like a rock and hit the ground with a dull thud. Then the track grew still.

"Wow." Moordryd gasped. "Nice going, 'cepshun." He patted her head as she basked in the compliment. He retracted the rest of the line, and smirked at the Dragon Booster's still figure. Decepshun snorted at the motionless Beau. He had finally done it. The Dragon Booster was helpless. He noticed that a huge chunk of active draconium had fallen from the ceiling in the quake, and was within his reach. This should be enough to please his father, he thought. He carefully mag-pulled them and placed them into a safe box, which he had brought along just for this. He closed the lid.

"Well done." Came a deep voice. Moordryd instinctively reached for his amulet.

He held it up. "Did you doubt me?"

"There is always room for error." Moordryd contemplated this as Armaggeddon continued, "Now that the Dragon Booster is gone, events will pass quickly. Your father will be eager to take control of the city, lest the Dragon Booster somehow comes back. Which is very doubtful."

Moordryd smiled and chuckled. "Now there is no one to stop me!"

"The Dragon Booster is gone, yes, but there are other obstacles you will have to face. Never think the way will be easy. You will face grueling challenges, and eventually, you

will have to take down your father. He will stand in the way of your destiny." Moordryd slowly lowered the fiery amulet as he listened to his teacher. "But," Armaggeddon said suddenly, causing Moordryd to hold the amulet back up. "With my teachings, you will be able to accomplish this."

"How can you be sure?"

"I can sense enormous potential in you, Moordryd Paynn. You will become a great mag-blaster."

"Greater than the Dragon Booster?"

"Yes, far greater." Armaggeddon's fiery eyes glowed in furious pride at having found a worthwhile student. Moordryd smiled.

"Greater than you?" He ventured to ask, not expecting any agreements.

"Yes." His answer shocked Moordryd.

"What? Really?"

"Listen to me and train hard, and you will become the greatest mag-blaster of all time. Far surpassing anyone. You are very advanced, my student. Nothing will be beyond your reach. With time, you will view me as a rookie, a mere novice compared to what you will do." Moordryd stared hard at the amulet in his hand. Was he telling the truth?

"Are you su…"

"For now, race. Quickly return, time is running short. There is not enough time, I fear, for what we must accomplish." The burning eyes died out and Moordryd was left staring at the amulet. Greatest mag-blaster of all time? Not just this era, but all time? It couldn't be possible. He couldn't accomplish that, his father had always said…. Moordryd frowned. His father knew nothing of his potential. He grinned manically and turned to the Dragon Booster.

"You hear that? You hear? I will be the most powerful warrior the world has ever seen! No one will be able to stand in my way. You've failed, and I've won, Dragon Booster! Finally, I've won!" He shouted at the statue. His shoulders shook with hysteria. "I've got a race to win now. See you, Dragon Loser! Maybe I'll come back and visit!" He laughed. And to his dragon he said, "let's go, Decepshun!"

She gave a quick roar, adding power to Moordryd's words and bounded over the draconium and past the Dragon Booster. Which frightened Moordryd, since the scanner was in his hand and she couldn't see the draconium. She landed safely, and ran on. But before they rounded the bend, Moordryd pulled back on the handles and glanced back at the frozen hero. All rage and frenzy gone from his system, he looked back. The draconium surrounding him glistened eerily. What would happen to the world without the Dragon Booster? He knew his father would start another war. Without the Dragon Booster, that was very possible. No one would be there to stop it, or unite dragons and humans. But Armaggeddon's plan would work, and Moordryd would control the second Black Draconium Empire. He was breathing normally once again, and continued staring at the world's only hope of freedom.

Decepshun shook her head in impatience. She was eager to win the race, provided they got there in time. "Hey!" Moordryd said as he nearly fell from the saddle. "Alright then, let's go." Decepshun smiled in victory, and trotted off. Suddenly, from behind came a clatter. Moordryd quickly snapped his head around. "What?" Moordryd said loudly as he looked for the Dragon Booster. Could he be free already?

His voice bounced back to him in an echo, as he saw the Dragon Booster where he had left him. The hero was still frozen in his surprised and fighting pose. Moordryd glanced around the track. The draconium glinted in unnatural silence as isolation pressed down hard around Moordryd. What had made the noise? His heart thudded in his ears. Was there something else out there?

He breathed a sigh of relief as he glanced down. Not too far away lay a bomb, which must have fallen out of his jacket. It was the most powerful bomb he had taken along with him. He glared at Decepshun and silently blamed her for causing it to fall. When she noticed the bomb and his glare, she purred and pretended not to notice as she turned her head and surveyed the track in the opposite direction. Moordryd sighed and started to get off his dragon, then paused. He glanced back at the Dragon Booster, then the bomb. All the Dragon Booster really tried to do was help people. Time was running short and he didn't have time to pick up the bomb. At least, that's the best excuse he could come up with. He left the bomb, and pushed forward on the handles roughly. Decepshun leapt away down the tunnel immediately.

At first, Moordryd panicked when he realized he hadn't paid much attention when they were running in the Shadow Track. All the tunnels and corridors of a crystal purple looked exactly like the last. Decepshun smirked and ran through the maze with ease. Unlike her rider, she had the sense to remember where they had came from. Moordryd let her take control, as he trusted the long, confident strides she took. All the same, he eased his tentative grip on the handles when the door finally came into view. He smirked and urged her forward. She took a few steps, then stopped and growled softly. "Come on. Go." He said, becoming agitated. They were almost out. She ignored his persistent pushes on the handles and refused to move.

Moordryd looked ahead. There was nothing different about the track before them, unless…. He reached into his jacket and pulled out the scanner. Dazzling white flooded the screen. His father was right. The Shadow Track was growing at a very fast rate. The active draconium barred his way from the exit. "Think you can jump that?" He called to Decepshun, and let her view the scanner for a moment.

She snorted at the ease of the challenge. With a powerful leap they were on the other side. Quickly, Moordryd planted a few bombs around the exit, and timed them. Decepshun flicked her tail from side to side, eager to be out in the open air again. "Done." He said. They jumped through the seemingly solid doorway, and soon, a welcoming haze of grey sky and a warm breeze greeted them. He paused and planted the last of his bombs on the cliff near the entrance. Decepshun aided him by magging him to the high places.

"Hurry!" He said as he landed back onto the saddle. She ran out into the clearing, away from the impending explosion.

"Artha! Artha, pick up!" Lance wailed into his wrist-comm. Parm sat nearby on Cyrano, worriedly watching the youngster. "Artha!" Lance nearly hollered.

"Hush!" Parm whispered fiercely, holding a finger to his mouth. "Do you want Cain to hear?" Lance looked at the still figure on a rise in the ground on the eastern side. Cain was still mounted on Coershun, watching Kitt, who was pacing in front of the Shadow Track's closed entrance.

"No." He said against the lump in his throat.

"Don't worry, Lance. Artha's been in there before, and the Shadow Track is broken." Parm said in a calm voice which surprised even him. "He can deal with Moordryd easily. I bet he's coming back out right now!" Parm motioned extravagantly with his hands. Lance nodded. He remembered the Shadow Track. That desolate tomb. Lance thought about what Parm had said.

"He's probably got Moordryd by the pants and dragging him out here." Lance piped up.

Parm smiled. "Of course he does. He's the Dragon Booster." Lance smiled gratefully in return as Fracshun nuzzled him. A voice caused them to turn to the clearing. It was Kitt.

"Come on, Cain! How do you work the gear?" She shouted up to him. She had the gear in her hands, and was turning it over and over. Parm had looked at it earlier and couldn't figure out how it did what it did. It was a technology that far surpassed his knowledge. He couldn't even turn it on. There was probably a very easy way to activate it though, despite its complexity. Moordryd had been able to do it. Parm knew it was hiding under his nose, but he just couldn't figure it out.

"Cain!" Kitt said, holding the gear above her head with one hand and glaring defiantly at him.

"I can't hear you!" Cain's voice drifted lazily back to her. She nearly snarled. She would've gone up there and forced him to tell her, she knew she could do it, but it was impossible to reach him. Cain had made sure he was safe from anyone or anything that tried to reach him. He was on a hill with extremely steep sides, and it was a piece of cake for Coershun to throw a mag-blast at whosoever attempted the climb. And being a bipedal dragon, the task was made ever harder for Wyldfyr.

"CAIN!" Kitt yelled in exasperation. Cain's erratic laughter floated its way down. He wasn't telling her anything. He couldn't if he wanted to. He didn't even know how it worked.

Kitt rolled her eyes and Wyldfyr hissed. Not at Cain and Coershun, but at the Shadow Track. Parm, Lance and Kitt all raised their eyebrows in surprise. Moordryd was on Decepshun, galloping away from the track at a high speed. Kitt glanced eagerly to the track, expecting Artha to come riding gallantly in hot pursuit. Wyldfyr took a hesitant step towards the track.

Suddenly, a deafening explosion rocked the air. Hot chunks of rock and air slammed into her, throwing Wyldfyr to the ground. Cain and Coershun slipped down the slope and followed Moordryd. Cyrano hid behind a huge fallen column and Fracshun quickly magged Lance on and hid behind him.

Wyldfyr painfully rose back to his feet and tried to stay there. Tremors running through the ground from the explosion rocked him from side to side, threatening to make him fall down. Kitt readjusted her helmet. "Art…ah…Dragon Booster!" She yelled, then gasped in horrific shock as the side of the cliff above the track fell. Shock waves ran through the ground as the stone hit the soft earth. Wyldfyr braced himself against it and managed to stay on his feet. Dust hung heavy in the air as both dragon and human alike coughed. Kitt waved her hand in front of her face to clear it. She squinted at the track, trying to penetrate the thick filth. Parm and Lance peeked from behind the column.

As the dust cleared, they saw the new terrain. Where the once proud and ill-omened gateway to the track stood, now lay an impassable mound of rubble. The entire side of the cliff had fallen.

Lance's gaze swept the carnage. "Artha!" He yelled oblivious to the fact that Moordryd and Cain might hear. Parm didn't stop him, he only stared in dread.

Kitt searched the new mound of enormous chunks of rock and dirt. She saw no opening and no Artha. "No." Her whisper was lost in the steady breeze that carried the dread they all felt.

"No!" Lance and Fracshun came out from behind the pillar and arrived at her side. Parm followed soon after on Cyrano.

"How are we going to get through that?" Kitt demanded of the others.

Parm looked at her incredulously. "Get through that? Oh, I don't know. But maybe it would be possible if we had nearly a hundred earth class dragons to move it! I mean, look at that! The entire cliff came down!"

"Then we…we call Connor." Kitt said. Lance sniffed, and for his benefit, Kitt said to him, "Artha's okay."

"How do you know?" He looked up at her with worried eyes.

"Artha may be an idiot at times, but he's not stupid enough to walk right into an explosion. He must have stayed clear. He's probably waiting for us to clear the entrance so he can stop Moordryd…argh!" She slapped a hand to her helmet. "Moordryd! We can't let him get those samples to Word!"

"But we can't leave Artha!" Parm said and Lance nodded.

"Uh…you guys stay here, call Connor and get Artha out. I'll stop Moordryd!"

"Alright then…" Parm said. Lance and he looked at each other worriedly.

"Hyah!" Kitt said as Wyldfyr took off after the two Dragon Eyes. All too soon they were out of sight, and only the dust trail Wyldfyr had kicked up told of their presence there. Lance contacted his father and Parm looked about worriedly as he realized that now they truly were alone.


	6. Downfall of Dragon City: Part I

The following chapters are about...well, read them, then you'll know! Who can escape Word's newly revealed plan? Mwahahahaha...ha...

_Chapter 6: The Downfall of Dragon City: Part I_

Moordryd checked the time again. Five more minutes. Decepshun slowed down and stopped at the Dragon Eye tent at the track in Mid City. Moordryd smiled. His father would be pleased. Cain rode up beside him.

"She caught up. Again." He said, referring to Kitt. Moordryd looked behind him and tried to see past the mill of people preparing for the race. Cain noticed this. "She's not here yet…"

"Then she didn't technically catch up, did she?" Moordryd interrupted.

"Uh, no." At Moordryd's glare Cain continued in his defense. "But she'll be here soon."

"When?"

"A few minutes, if we underestimate her."

"Good." Moordryd said. Cain looked at his boss questioningly. "We wouldn't want her to miss her race now, would we?"

"Course not." Cain said and grinned.

"The black shadow draconium can wait till after the race. The important thing is the Dragon Booster won't be haunting our steps anymore." Moordryd patted the box which held the dangerous samples. Then he paused as if in thought, and continued, "did you happen to see Artha Penn?"

"Where?"

"At the Shadow Track with the other brats! Where else?" Moordryd haughtily shot back. Kitt had been there and the rest of the Penn Racing Crew. If Artha had been there, he wouldn't make it back in time for the race. Cain was undaunted by Moordryd's tone and narrowed his eyes in deep reflection.

"Well, I remember seeing Kitt," he mused while Moordryd sighed in exasperation, "and the little kid and the professor. But…" Cain scratched his head, "Penn wasn't there."

Moordryd dwelled on that thought. "Have you ever seen him with the other brats and the Dragon Booster?" Cain shook his head slowly, going through each of their meetings with the hero and trying to recollect whether Penn had been there or not.

"Strange." Moordryd said, then laughed.

"What?" Cain asked, not grasping what was so funny.

"Penn must be a bigger yellow-bellied newt then we thought. If he won't even help his friends stop me and my father…what does he do? Stay home?"

"But if he wasn't there, he'll be here for the race. And Decepshun's energy is pretty low." Cain pointed out. Moordryd glared at him. "And if Kitt races…"

"I'll just have to beat both of them, won't I?" Moordryd tapped Decepshun lightly on her head, and she lowered her head to let him dismount easily. Cain watched as Moordryd hefted the box in his hand. "Call Swayy, Blarre and Rancydd. Have them guard the tent. The box stays in there until I can get it to my father." Cain nodded in approval and activated his VIDD-screen to contact Blarre. Before Moordryd was able to take more than one step towards the tent, his wrist-comm blinked.

"What now?" He muttered. He really needed to get to the race. His father appeared in the screen, not surprising Moordryd. He knew his father would be anxious to hear of the day's events.

Word paused and looked past his son, noticing that he was in Mid City. "Where's the Dragon Booster?" He said with an anticipating smile spreading across his face.

"Where do you think?" Moordryd replied. "Trapped, just as you planned." Word frowned at his son's arrogant attitude.

"And the draconium?"

"With me." Moordryd replied. Word's frown turned into a smile once again. Moordryd hesitated before continuing. "You should really stop doubting me. It was easy."

"I'm sure it was." Word said sarcastically. "Bring the draconium to me now."

"But I'm racing now." Moordryd said through gritted teeth.

"No, you're standing and talking to me. Bring it to me right now. There is no race."

"No race?" Moordryd queried. He looked around. Not too far away, by the Grip of the Dragon's tent, was Phistus. He mounted his dragon and headed for the track. Moordryd then glanced at the Flare of the Dragon tent. Pyrrah was having her dragon mag on some red thruster gear. Probably high level thruster gear. He heard someone grunt in disapproval, and saw Wulph ride by on Hyve, who spared the time to look at Moordryd and Cain the way he would at a slug. Cain sneered back. They, amongst all the other racers, were preparing for the race and were headed to the track.

"Racers to the starting gate! Race time is less than 30 seconds away folks! Get ready for one of the fastest, most challenging…" Race Marshall Budge droned on in his usual excitement filled announcements.

"The race is about to start!" Moordryd loudly said into his wrist-comm.

"Hardly. Now that the Dragon Booster is gone, my plans can go unchallenged." Word said. Moordryd remembered what Armaggeddon had said. With the Dragon Booster gone, his father would accelerate his plans. His scorching voice still lingered in his ears. _There is not enough time, I fear, for what we must accomplish. _

"What plans?" Moordryd asked worriedly. His father's plans might get in the way of his own.

"Moordryd, you must remember to thank me later."

"For what?"

"For giving you the opportunity to remain unharmed by my plot." Moordryd looked at his father's gleeful eyes. "Mag off all gear Decepshun has on her."

"Why?"

"Because, for the past few years, I have planted mind control devices in each piece of gear Paynn Incorporated has sold. My company is the largest gear producers on the entire planet. Thousands have my gear."

Moordryd was taken aback. "You're going to…"

"Yes. Within seconds, I will have thousands of wraiths at my beck and call." Word said, delighted with himself. "And my wraiths will come and capture those humans and dragons who have managed to be unharmed by my plan with mind control gear. Very few will evade this fate."

"But why didn't you do this last week or last month?" Moordryd questioned.

"Because, the Dragon Booster wasn't destroyed. I couldn't have him rising an army of dragons that haven't yet been affected by my gear. The Dragon of Legend truly is power. He may have been able to stop my army."

"How could he possibly have stopped thousands of wraiths?"

"Never underestimate your enemies, Moordryd Paynn. Remember that." Word lectured. Moordryd silently promised he would. Never again would he underestimate his father.

"Why now though?" Moordryd persisted in questioning his father. This was all happening too fast. The war would begin within minutes. He didn't have enough time to train or to carefully lay out his plans. Armaggeddon was right. Things were really happening too fast.

"Moordryd, what is happening in Dragon City today?"

"Thousands are going to turn into wraiths?"

"Besides that."

"I was supposed to race?"

Word rolled his eyes and sighed as he put a single claw to his forehead. "The final elite race is today. The final race for their season." He barked as he looked at his son in frustration. "Do you know how many people flock to these races? Hundreds, possibly thousands. All final races for all levels of the academy and elite racers are today. And it is on this day, that all these dragons are using gear. No other day has this many dragons using gear at the same time. Even those not racing, put gear on their dragons in the spirit of the event." It was true, Moordryd had to agree with him. The city streets were jammed. Cain and him had spent nearly an hour in total simply waiting for the streets to clear and for standstills to ease up as they came back into Mid City. The most exciting races all season were happening now, and people from all over came to see it, as they did nearly every year.

"Unmag all your gear and bring the draconium to me." Word said, now getting impatient. "Do not be late." And with those final words of warning, Word terminated the connected and Moordryd's screen died. Moordryd stared at his wrist-comm, then looked up to Cain. Cain had a mortified expression on his face and stared back at Moordryd. They were both thinking the same thing. The war was about to start. It was Blarre's impatient whining from Cain's VIDD-screen - he had been calling her and had evidently left her hanging as he listened to Word - that snapped Moordryd out of his shock. Hesitation was a killer.

"Unmag all gear, now!" He shouted and Decepshun and Coershun quickly complied. Their gear clattered as it hit the ground. "Cain, tell everyone else to unmag all gear as well." Moordryd said. Cain nodded and tried to explain the situation as best he could to Blarre. Moordryd sighed in relief as Cain nodded to him to indicate that she had obeyed the urgent orders. "Call the others." It was an order not needed, as Cain already had Swayy on his screen. Decepshun magged Moordryd into the saddle.

"Last call for racers Moordryd, Artha, Kitt and Cain. Last call." Budge's voice commanded. Moordryd then realized nearly everyone was looking in his direction, Budge included. "Last call." he said directly to Moordryd from his platform. It was highly unusual for so many racers to miss such an important race. The crowd buzzed with questions, and the people that could see Moordryd looked at him in puzzlement. What kind of racer unmagged all his gear and refused to take notice of the race?

Cain was preoccupied with his vital mission, and didn't notice. But as Moordryd's eyes grazed the crowd and the plentiful amount of dragons that held gear, he couldn't help but feel remorse and guilt at what was to happen to them all. Unable to move of their own free will, they would remain captured forever, prisoners in their own bodies.

"Cain, just…round up the Dragon Eyes and have them all stay in Squire's End. All of them." Cain nodded absently without taking his eyes from the screen. With luck, he would be able to contact all the Dragon Eyes in time. Moordryd turned and shook his head at Budge and the entire crowd before racing off with Decepshun to his father's citadel. As they all looked on in confusion, it happened.

Moordryd urged Decepshun to go faster, with the hope of outrunning the screams that now rose all around him.

----------------------

Kitt groaned at the mill of people. They crowded against each other, each weaving their own way to the tracks. The people down here were either the ones who couldn't afford to see the elite races, or had come too late and found all seats taken. The congestion had to be near three times as bad in Sun City. She reached the crew tents. She was sure Moordryd and Cain had gone this way.

She just had to get that draconium. She had called Connor as soon as she had left Parm and Lance. He had worriedly said that he needed to talk to Lance and Parm to figure out a way to get Artha out, but he stayed in contact with her long enough to tell her that it would be disastrous if Word got those samples. The black shadow draconium from the track was very dangerous and held too many mysteries. He feared what would happen if Word uncovered some.

Wyldfyr had raced through the wreckage of the lost city, following the deep tracks Decepshun and Coershun had left behind in their flight. But when she was close enough to see the dust trail they kicked up, Moordryd had mag blasted a huge pile of crumbled statues. They fell across her path, and she was forced to go around the pile, which took longer than she had anticipated. By that time, Moordryd and Cain had a great lead.

Mentally she blamed herself for not being fast enough to aid Artha in the Shadow Track. She also blamed herself for losing Moordryd. But blaming the crowd swarming around her wouldn't help. They didn't realize what was happening. She had only herself to blame.

She noticed Wulph ride by on Hyve. He offered her a slight smile, signaling how competitive the race would be. She forced a grin for him. He headed to the track while she surveyed the tents. She wouldn't be racing today. Neither would Artha, Moordryd or Cain.

She let Wyldfyr pick his way carefully through the crowd. Suddenly, three rambunctious kids ran right in front of him, and Wyldfyr tossed his head as he abruptly stopped. "Hey! Watch where you're going!" She shouted to them as Wyldfyr calmed down. Only the last child - a short, blue haired kid - had the sense to slow down and mumble an apology. Then he dashed after his friends. As Kitt watched him go and the direction he took, she spotted them. Way in the distance, near the Dragon Eye tent, sat Moordryd and Cain on their dragons. "Ugh!" She groaned. That should have been one of the first places she looked.

She tried maneuvering Wyldfyr through the throng of people, but soon found it hopeless. The race would start in less than a minute, and all the people had seemingly waited till the last minute to get a seat. "Get out of the way!" She called down. Only a few spared her a glare for her troubles. No one else paid any attention.

Budge's voice babbled over the speakers. "Last call for racers Moordryd, Artha, Kitt and Cain. Last call."

"Move it!" She yelled at the nearly immobile crowd before her. Some, this time, glanced up at her. Even fewer recognized her, and tried to get others to move out of the way too. Rapidly, the word spread through that she was a racer, and more people obliged to clear a way for her.

"Last call." Budge announced. Kitt was heading through the crowd quicker now. She looked again for Moordryd. He was still there. He climbed back into Decepshun's saddle, and shook his head at Budge. Kitt sneered. She had to get that draconium before he gave it to Word. But Moordryd was the last person she expected to skip a race. Why didn't he race first, then give it to Word? Or get one of his crew members to transport it to Word? That was what she almost expected to happen. Moordryd then raced off, nearly running over people who weren't fast enough to jump out of the way. She prepared to give chase, but then she heard Wyldfyr scream.

"Wha?" She gasped. Wyldfyr roared as if in pain. He pitched his head, nearly throwing her from the saddle. All around her came roars and cries of protest from the dragons. She looked Wyldfyr over, he looked alright, but…the red thruster gear was acting strange. As she looked on in horror, she realized what was making him, and all the other dragons act so strange.

Right in front of her eyes, the gear's colours abruptly changed. They slowly melted together to a dull purple and black. Her dragon's colour began to change, turning to a dark purple and black. The rapid transformation began from the gear and spread outward on her dragon. Wyldfyr's eyes then turned a dull yellow, and Kitt felt the alteration creep into her arms. She gasped as her ability to move was impaired. Slowly, the world began to turn to a deep purple hue while her mind started to fog up. Dimly, she noticed Moordryd racing directly to her on Decepshun.


	7. Downfall of Dragon City: Part II

Well, here's the next chapter. Thanks once again for reading, and enjoy!

_Chapter 7: The Downfall of Dragon City, Part II_

As Moordryd weaved around screaming people and dragons, he saw Kitt. She was looking helplessly at him as her eyes dilated and turned yellow. He pushed down a pang of regret and quickly raced past. But as Decepshun carried him past, he shot out his hand. With a powerful push he knocked Kitt from the saddle, wondering how much help it would be now.

--------------

Kitt opened her eyes to see the chaos around her. She groaned and flexed her fingers, which widened her eyes in surprise. The wraith effect hadn't lingered with her. She could move! Her moment of joy suddenly ended as she abruptly rolled to the side to avoid Wyldfyr's crushing foot. She looked on in horror as one of her best friends bared his teeth at her. Dripping saliva, he loomed over her softy hissing through his teeth. Kitt, still on the ground, backed up hurriedly.

She shot a quick glance in the direction of Moordryd, her surprising hero. He was situated on his dragon near the end of the tents. Why hadn't Decepshun changed like every other dragon around her? Moordryd remained a few seconds longer, than apparently relieved that she was no longer a wraith, he left. Dimly Kitt noticed Decepshun had on no gear like Wyldfyr did, the gear that took away her friend. She was sure she had seen some on Decepshun before, though.

Wyldfyr tossed his head and let out a terrifying roar which sent spears of fear through Kitt's heart and snapped her head back to look at him. What had happened to him? He glared down at her with wraith eyes, watching her every move. He snapped his jaws, but did not charge. Kitt found herself backed up against the Army of the Dragon crew tent. Quickly, she pulled herself underneath the tarp and inside.

She stood shakily and looked at the dark shape on the other side of the fabric. Wyldfyr moved with the deadly movements of a wraith and pushed his nose against the heavy material. Kitt scooted to the opposite side as Wyldfyr started to push his head underneath the tarp. He blew through his nose, causing a thin layer of dirt and dust to rise up into the air. Kitt turned and fled through the entrance which was thankfully on the opposite side her dragon was near. She ducked and kept close to the tents and slowly made her way to the next one, which she escaped into.

She glanced back through the opening, holding the flaps close. She beheld the horrific sight. Everywhere, every dragon, was now black and purple. Yellow eyes stared out vacantly at the world around. They screamed at each other, roared at the sky and pawed at the ground.

Humans riding the wraiths acted the same. Screeching in unnatural voices, they challenged their surroundings. Kitt tried to swallow past a lump in her throat. That could've, would've, been her. If not for her enemy, Moordryd Paynn. He had saved her life, for what reasons Kitt couldn't possibly fathom. He had help start this, she was sure. But as Lance said, Moordryd wasn't all bad. She hoped he was right, and that that little act of aid signified something greater within him.

"Like what you see?" Came a gruff voice from behind. Kitt wheeled around, startled. She hadn't noticed the others in the tent. Spynn looked at her from across the tent, her face and posture screaming her fear and anxiety. Marianis stood hunched in the far corner, crossed arms beneath her grim face. Neither of them had spoken. It was….

"Reepyr?" Kitt said, more than startled. He looked up at her with a dead expression on his face. "When did you get here?" Kitt stopped herself as she thought of something dreadful. "Where's Propheci?" Reepyr only tightened his mouth in grim resignation of her deepest fears.

---------------

Moordryd stormed into Word's citadel, clutching the precious box in a tight grip. He flung open the doors and marched up to his father. Word turned and acknowledged his son's presence.

"Took your time getting here, didn't you?" He said, a smile flickering on his face. Moordryd didn't see how anyone could crack a smile on a day like today. "You look angry." Word said as a matter of fact.

Moordryd grimaced and threw the heavy box on Word's desk. It landed with a loud metallic clang, dwarfed in volume by Moordryd's voice. "What did you do?"

Word stood as a formidable obstacle against Moordryd's anger and the hope of Dragon City. "What do you mean? The wraiths?" He questioned. It sickened Moordryd to see the smile still on his father's face. "Aren't they magnificent?" Word turned back to his screens, where he was watching Dragon City's destruction.

Moodryd looked on in shock. It had grown worse since he had left Mid City. Every single dragon he could see had been turned into a wraith and were running at high speeds. Moordryd suddenly realized that there were also people running every which way. The dragons never slowed down their rampage. He had to look away from the gruesome sight. He was suddenly glad his father had no sound along with the images.

Word looked on at the images in delight. "Watch, my son." He said once he noticed Moordryd looking away. "Watch my conquest."

"Conquest? Your wraiths are out of control, people are…dying…."

"That is the price of war, Moordryd. And my wraiths are not out of control, as you will see." Moordryd didn't want to see anymore. His father moved to his control panel, and very soon, the wraiths stopped their individual stampedes.

Moordryd looked again at the screens, then quickly looked away. Even though the dragons have stopped, the carnage remained. "Why did you let them do that if you could stop them?"

"The people must know my power."

"So you're killing innocent people to get your point across?"

"I do believe you're starting to sound like the Dragon Booster."

At his father's mocking words, Moordryd sneered. "No. I think I sound like any sane human with a conscience."

"How insulting," Word said, hands thrown up in distress. Sarcasm dripped from his voice. Moordryd's anger flared as he saw the smile still present on his father's face. "As you can see, the city is in my grasp."

"How is this happening?" Moordryd said, wanting to understand the nightmare he found himself in.

Word appeared delighted at having a chance to explain his plan. "The gear my company has produced for the past number of years have mind control gear within each. Red thruster gear, green ramming gear, blue tentacle gear, they all have it. This gear is different from the gear on my wraith dragons. It controls by signal." Word smiled in self achievement. "Though the signal is not strong, it has full control of the dragon. The signal, as soon as I activate it, changes the dragon. The dragon is left helpless, in my complete control. It affects only the one dragon because that dragon is the only one close enough for the signal to affect."

"What if someone takes the gear off the dragon?" Word frowned slightly at his son's question.

"Well, then the signal can't affect the dragon anymore."

"Then it turns back to normal."

"Do not get ideas, my son. The dragons won't mag off the gear once it has control of them. They will fight to keep it on. And of course, you know how hard it is to remove gear when the dragon tries to keep it on."

"But what about the people? Does the signal affect them too?"

"Yes. My human wraiths." Word held up a finger to silence his son. "I know what you're thinking. Yes, the human is only affected because the signal reaches them. Take them off the dragon and they return to normal." He smiled once again. "They are under the dragon's control, who are under my control. They will fight to stay on the dragon." He swept his arm out at the screens. "There are too many wraiths for the unaffected humans to stop."

"Aren't there unaffected dragons? Not all the dragons had gear on, and not all the gear was made by you. Some were made by the competition."

"I have prepared for that. My initial wraiths have control gear on them. They will run around Dragon City magging the gear onto the free dragons. None will escape."

Word put out a clawed hand and gripped the box, pulling it close to him on the table. Moordryd watched silently. "What exactly are you going to do with that?"

"Many things. I will discover their secrets, the undiscovered potential this draconium holds. The Shadow Track's secret will be mine." Word smiled gleefully, staring past Moordryd into the future.

Moordryd ignored him and looked at the screens. So many were suffering without anyone to help. The reality of what was happening was finally beginning to sink in. He gasped as he recognized one. Swayy. She hadn't magged off the gear in time. She was a wraith. And Dorsull, Phistus…. They were all there. They had been expecting to race, but had instead found a different mandate set out for them. He balled his hands into fists. He had to free Swayy. He wouldn't let her stay a wraith.

Moordryd abruptly realized there was no Dragon Booster to help him or anyone else. He had locked him in the Shadow Track. He was responsible for destroying humanity's hope of freedom. He glared defiantly at his father. "I won't let you do this." He said through gritted teeth. He turned and marched away, knowing full well his father was smiling smugly at his back.

----------------

Reepyr shook his head at Kitt's question. They, that is, Kitt, Marianis, Spynn and Reepyr were crouched down in the tent. Shadows of dragons and humans were seen passing by on the thick tarp, but luckily none had ventured a peek inside. The commotion from before had died down considerably as the wraith dragons had ceased to attack. Now they silently and relentlessly stalked the streets.

Quick glances at the outside gave them only brief glimpses of the new world they found themselves thrust into. The old wraith dragons, as Kitt thought of them, were sprinting around, magging wraith gear onto the dragons that had escaped unscathed. But that was long past. Now the only dragons she could see in the streets were wraiths.

Kitt turned her thoughts away from the outside and pressed Reepyr again. She was sitting cross-legged beside him, Marianis on her other side. "But there must be some Prophets who are willing to help us."

Reepyr once again shook his head. "I'm sorry, but Propheci has once again…."

"Propheci has once again persuaded the dragons to start a war, we know. According to you, he's been doing that a lot." Spynn shot out, sitting against a crate, elbows on her knees, head resting in her hands. She lifted her head. "Kitt said the other orange dragons locked that Propheci up." Marianis half-heartedly nodded in agreement, not looking up from the gear she was fiddling with. Gear she had found lying on the ground in the Dragon Flare Crew tent they found themselves hiding in.

"They did, last we saw." Kitt sighed. "What happened when we left?" She asked, turning to Reepyr.

"When the Dragon Booster and you all left, we payed no attention to Propheci. The rest of the orange dragons realized their mistakes and were ready to come help the Dragon Booster at a moment's notice." He smiled as Kitt widened her eyes in surprise. "Yes, I'm sure they would have done that. They were so changed." Reepyr stared off at nothing, reminiscing.

"Then what happened? Why are they back here? What are they doing here?" Spynn shot out. Marianis raised her eyes slightly from the gear she was fiddling with, and threw a disapproving look at Spynn's interruption.

Reepyr sighed. "For days, Propheci wouldn't let up. He kept growling and talking to the other dragons. I'm sure it was about letting him out and about how dragons should ultimately rule the planet. Thankfully, most did not listen."

"But one did." Kitt said blankly.

"One always does." Marianis mumbled into the gear.

"One did." Reepyr confirmed the obvious. "We let him take guard at one point, not knowing his true intentions. He let Propheci out, and Propheci wasted no time in getting a human rider. Through him, he spoke to us. He spoke of the strangest things." Reepyr paused, and Marianis set aside the gear, thoroughly intrigued. Spynn and she listened intently and Kitt waited for Reepyr to continue.

Reepyr shook his head. "He…we do not know how he knew. He told us that humans would destroy the dragons here in Dragon City. He said the Prophets should immediately come here to stop this. When asked how he knew, he simply said he was told. But he was locked up. No one from the outside spoke with him. We questioned him further and learned that a pair of fiery eyes spoke to him through the darkness." Silence blanketed the tent.

"Fiery eyes spoke to him through the darkness? Oh, please." Spynn said wearily. Kitt glared at her. "Sounds like a crazy dragon. It's a shame none of the others realize it."

"They didn't. But Propheci spoke with such earnest, we agreed to release him and have him show us. We didn't believe anything was going to happen, we thought he had gone mad. So with a secure escort, we came to Dragon City. At first, nothing happened, and the other orange dragons were ready to head back, then…then…."

"Word Paynn." Kitt muttered darkly and stared at the ground. Flashes of Wyldfyr ran through her mind.

"What?" Marianis' question caused Kitt to look up at the others.

"You mean Word Paynn had something to do with this?" Spynn growled. "I knew he was bad news, but this?"

"Word Paynn had everything to do with this. He has control of all the wraith dragons." Kitt explained.

"He has control of the wraith dragons?" Marianis echoed in surprise. Though they all knew Paynn wanted to start a Dragon Human war, for some reason the thought never occurred to them that he made the wraiths.

"Makes sense." Spynn muttered, slightly annoyed she hadn't connected the dots herself.

"I mean, we all know the Dragon Eyes steal dragons on a regular basis…."

"We should've known." Marianis sighed. "That jerk! Dorsull…." Her voice trailed off as she remembered watching Dorsull succumb to the wraith gear, just as he was about to race.

The small tent grew silent as everyone remembered watching their friends being destroyed of their will right before their eyes. Reepyr looked from one to another.

"The dragons," he continued, "then listened to Propheci. He told them how humans would deceive us like they've done before. They listened to him."

"What's Propheci doing now?" Kitt asked.

"He and the other Prophets took control of their riders once again. I've no doubt they're trying to convince all the remaining free dragons to join them." Hope seemed to slide out of the tent until none remained. The silence was broken only by the guttural noises from outside.

"What can we do?" Marianis asked after an eternity.

"What can we do? What is there to do?" Spynn spat. "As soon as we leave this tent, we're going to be picked up by the wraith dragons or one of those bumbling orange Prophets. Dragon City belongs to the dragons now."

Marianis glared in Spynn's direction. "There has to be something we can do. I mean, how are we going to get out of here? We cannot stay here. Sooner or later we'll be found."

Spynn sighed, agitated. "I don't know. We'll wait till the coast is clear."

"But what about our friends? Are you just going to let them be controlled by…by Paynn?" Marianis said, her voice rising in tone. "How can you just sit here and do nothing?"

"Hey! I didn't say I would do nothing!"

"Then choose your words more carefully next time. Because it sure sounded like you were only concerned for yourself." The usually friendly Dragon Fish leader heatedly glared at her. Spynn opened her mouth, but no words came out. Even Kitt was surprised at Marianis' outburst. But then again, all their tempers were rising. Marianis' shoulders slumped, and she continued in her usual tone, "Dorsull…he…I have to save him." She looked pleadingly at the others. "I just know I can't do it alone."

Her near plea for help echoed in the tent. Spynn looked ashamed. Kitt opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Reepyr. "Which is why I wanted to find you, Kitt, or any other Penn Racing Crew members." He spoke earnestly. Kitt knew why.

"You wanted to find the Dragon Booster." She said flatly, for it was not a question. Reepyr nodded as Marianis and Spynn looked hopeful.

"Where is he? Why hasn't he done something?" Marianis asked quickly. Her eyes shone with new hope.

"I…know where he is." Kitt said slowly. All the others breathed a sigh of relief, especially Reepyr. "But…he needs our help first."

----------------

Parm and Lance looked at the mound of impassable rubble. Parm looked down at his calculations. "No…we…if we can…" He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Connor looked perplexed from the green VIDD-screen in front of Parm. They were currently discussing the means of Artha's escape. "I don't think that will work." Parm said, dismissing yet another plan. Connor sighed.

Lance shifted in Fracshun's saddle, causing the little dragon to look up at his rider. They were both getting fidgety. The wastelands howled with bone chilling gusts of wind. Lance looked back at Parm. "Parm." He said softly.

"Wait! We could…no, the pull of the leverage…" Parm trailed off once more, frowning slightly at his results. Lance sighed and gazed about dejectedly. He wondered if Kitt had been able to catch Moordryd. He tapped his fingers on Fracshun's head. Frachsun chattered at Lance, who smiled mischievously in return. He was about to playfully bother his dragon further, when he heard Parm speak. "What?" Lance questioned.

Parm sighed. "I said, could you go over there and see if you could…" Lance, listening expectedly, looked up sharply as Parm stopped in mid sentence. Parm was gazing down at Cyrano in horror.

"Parm? Something strange has just happened…mag off your gear! PARM, MAG…" Connor's hurried voice was immediately cut off as Parm's VIDD-screen malfunctioned.

Cyrano's eyes grew large as he was infected. Lance looked at the source of the threat. The red thruster gear Cyrano had was…acting strangely. Lance was confused. Parm threw his arms back suddenly, and the alteration that was turning the humble green dragon into a savage black brute seeped into him.


	8. Downfall of Dragon City: Part III

Well, it appears that this chapter is posted. Next chapter is called, The Downfall of Dragon City: Part IV. Which is the end of the Downfall of Dragon City chapter titles. Something dreadful happens to Word in the next one...:P I hope you like the two OC's I added in, Tryaust and Jyme.

_The Downfall of Dragon City: Part III_

Kitt flinched as Marianis suddenly threw the gear she had held in her lap. "Why that little, rotten, scheming, white-haired jerk!" She shouted in rage at finally knowing the only hope for Dragon City had been tricked into a prison by none other than Moordryd Paynn.

"Marianis, shhhh." Kitt said softly. Marianis bit her lip when she realized she had really yelled this time. Suddenly, a loud thud caused them all to stare silently at the gear she had flung in anger. They watched helplessly as it quickly rolled out of the tent.

"Nice one." Spynn whispered. Marianis would have glared at her, but her gaze was rooted to the flap of the tent. A large, bipedal dragon had heard the commotion and had come to investigate.

"Out the back. Underneath the tarp." Reepyr instructed. The others started to do just that, but were stopped as they saw a large shadow on the opposite side. There was a dragon right outside. There was no way to get out without being seen.

"Hide!" Kitt said, and for the moment, that was the best they could do. They scuttled behind crates and chairs and under tables. They did their best to remain unseen if the dragon near the entrance happened to glance in.

Kitt had found a hiding place between a crate and the back of the tent. The ominous shadow on the other side stalked a mere dracometer away. Only an inch thick tarp separated Kitt from discovery and imprisonment. She held her breath and stared at the ground, fearing a single motion from her would be deadly. She watched fearfully as the dragon lumbered off after a final snort at the back of the tent. Clearly it had been a wraith, she had seen the shadow of the control gear on its head. She wondered whether she would have rather it been a Prophet.

She dared a peek around the crate to look for the others. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw what was staring directly at her from the entrance to the tent. Kitt immediately froze, frantically thinking of what see could do next. The orange dragon had trust his head in the tent, and was intently peering at Kitt.

It glanced back outside, then walked cautiously in, the controlled rider on his head rocking with the uneven walk. As soon as the Prophet was fully inside, Kitt noticed Reepyr start to stand from behind the desk he had been hiding behind.

"Tryaust?" Reepyr said as he rose, chancing discovery once he knew the Prophet had seen Kitt. The orange dragon looked away from Kitt to Reepyr. The human on his head spoke.

"Reepyr?" He said in a raspy voice, the control gear on the rider's head glinting in the faded light. "I'm glad I found you." Tryaust took a step towards Reepyr.

Reepyr remained cautious, and didn't move from his place behind the desk. "You were looking for me?"

Tryaust, realizing Reepyr's evident distrust of him, didn't move forward again. "Yes," he said, "I have to say that…what I did was not…I apologize."

Reepyr crossed his arms. A loud rustling caused them all to look at Spynn, who was emerging from behind a large, red chair. She stepped in front, now being the closest to the orange dragon. "Reepyr, who's Tryaust? And why hasn't he alerted the other Prophets?"

Reepyr stared hard at Tryaust. "I don't know." Spynn glared at him as best as she could while keeping an eye on the orange dragon as well.

"That doesn't help, you realize." She said. Kitt noticed Marianis slowly rise from behind another crate, full of damaged gear. Marianis and Kitt stood silent, waiting for either Reepyr or Tryaust to continue.

"Tryaust was an orange dragon I believed could be trusted. No matter what. I suppose I was mistaken." Reepyr said in a soft, flat voice. He looked back at Tryaust.

Tryaust glanced momentarily at the ground, seemingly ashamed. "Reepyr, how could I have sided with you and still be of help? The circumstances did not allow for any such thing. Had I let my true allegiance show, they would have locked me up or attacked me. And what good would I be then?"

"I admit, you would be incredibly useless then." Reepyr said with the faint hint of a smile.

Tryaust brightened. "I wish to help now. In any way I can without having my true intentions known to the other Prophets yet. I've been looking for you all over the city, Reepyr."

"I'm glad you've found me. We could use your help." Tryaust nodded at Reepyr's words, eager to comply.

Spynn, unsurprisingly, interjected. "Wait, so we're just…can we really trust him? Who is he?"

Reepyr sighed. "As I said before, Tryaust is a trustworthy dragon. I was quick to think the worst. Yes, he has sided with the other Prophets against the Dragon Booster before, but…"

"But now you're willing to trust your life with him?"

"Yes." Reepyr said. Spynn threw her hands into the air and sighed dramatically. Tryaust grinned.

Spynn looked at him. "Well I don't trust you completely just yet. Take it off."

"Take what off?" Tryaust questioned, his grin fading.

"Take the control gear off your rider…what's his name?" Spynn glared at Tryaust.

Tryaust hesitated, not liking where this was going. He sighed heavily. "His name is Jyme." Spynn motioned with her hands when Tryaust made no effort to mag off the gear. "But how will I speak?"

"I don't care. I want to talk to Jyme." Spynn haughtily shot back. Tryaust looked to Reepyr for help. Reepyr offered none, for he too, wanted to speak with Jyme. Tryaust shifted, clearly uncomfortable. Then he concentrated, and the control gear on the back of Jyme's head lifted, and came off.

----------

Lance and Fracshun stayed as quiet as they had ever been before in their entire lives. Lance and his dragon dared a peek around the huge fallen column. He was sure they had lost Parm and Cyrano back in the innumerable mounds of ancient rock and dirt. Frachsun chattered softly, and advanced a step from behind the column. Lance craned his head further. He saw nothing.

Fracshun then suddenly bolted behind a huge boulder a short distance away, and stood, quivering. Lance tightened his grip on the handles. He had to help Parm. Somehow. He had no idea how, and he couldn't contact anyone. When Cyrano and Parm had turned into…into a wraith, Frachsun and Lance had jumped back quickly in shock. Unfortunately, not far enough away. Cyrano had fired off a quick mag blast, and knocked Lance's communication gear out of order. Fracshun had then bolted away, with Cyrano hot on their heels. Luckily, they had been able to lose the new wraith by speed and agility. Now they were all alone.

"Do you think its safe?" Lance said to his dragon. Fracshun chattered as if to say, how should I know? "We need to help Parm." Lance aloud. He pushed forward on the handles, and they went off to search for wraith Parm. Lance still had no idea what to do once they found him.

----------

Moordryd flew out of his father's citadel. Decepshun ran as fast as she could, which was quite fast. Now twice as fast as any other dragon, she raced through the streets, bounding past wraiths of all types. Only then did Moordryd realize how dangerous and foolhardy this was. His father mention his original wraiths would be around, magging gear onto the remaining free dragons. He hoped they wouldn't decide to include him in their plans.

They once again took the back streets Moordryd knew well, and once, he thought he had seen an orange dragon. Of course, he had just managed to see the end part before it zipped behind a building, but he was sure it had been a Prophet. Things were just getting worse. He urged Decepshun onward.

Most of his crew were safely, or he hoped so, down in the compound in Squire's End. Most of the wraiths were up here, gathering up the festive, race hungry crowds. He was pretty sure his crew was alright, they could fend for themselves for a time. He just had to reach Swayy.

Quite a few streets and city blocks later, suddenly, Decepshun skidded to a halt, nearly throwing Moordryd off in the process. When he was straight once more, he looked ahead. "What in the…" He started to say, but immediately stopped. The three Prophets before him turned their heads in his direction. Moordryd groaned as he recognized one.

Propheci grinned. "Another! Another dragon still under the oppression of humans." He and the other orange dragons advanced a step. Decepshun growled back at them. "Don't be foolish." He said earnestly, his rider speaking the works with a gravely voice. Decepshun started to move back. She growled softly. "What?" Propheci said, slightly taken aback, then laughed. Moordryd's eyes widened in surprise. Decepshun was talking to them! "Do not joke, dragon. Come with us, come with your kind. You see what the humans have done? Don't choose this way of life…" He cooed, walking swiftly forward, but not so fast as to frighten her.

For a moment, Moordryd sat in the silence, waiting for Decepshun's answer. Propheci and the other two dragons soon stopped, waiting. Decepshun looked at them and after a while, made rumbling sounds in her throat.

Propheci looked truly shocked at her response. Moordryd noticed the other two dragons were barely stifling their laughter. Propheci growled low at Decepshun. She grinned back.

"Silence!" Propheci turned and roared at the other two. They immediately quieted as Propheci turned his attention back to them. "They rule of humans is coming to an end. They even turn on each other. How can you trust them?" He started to walk toward them once again. "He will turn on you. You are nothing more than a way of transportation to him, you are his pet." Propheci spat the last word in disgust.

Decepshun flicked her tail irritably. They were talking about him, Moordryd realized. "Hey!" He yelled back at the dragons. Propheci never ceased advancing. "I have never…"

"No, but you will." Propheci interjected. Moordryd fumed. Decepshun roared at them. No one talked about her rider that way. She knew Moordryd would never do anything, or take her for granted. She knew him. This dragon didn't.

"Rash decision." Propheci said, growling. Decepshun snorted at him, then turned and bounded away, leaving the orange dragons in surprise. Moordryd hung on for the ride. He was proud of Decepshun. He didn't know what she had said, but he was proud of her, nonetheless. All those times he had mused about owning a great dragon like the golden one, and she still stuck by him. Moordryd smiled as the wind whistled past. Decepshun was the only dragon he needed. He couldn't get the stupid dragon of legend anyway, that thing was now trapped forever.

He glanced behind, and to his relief, the Prophets didn't follow. They seemed more interested in the wraiths, at any rate. They didn't want to waste their time in dragons that wouldn't see their sense. "Girl, I don't know what you said, but you really scraped his scales." Moordryd smiled. Decepshun chuckled along with her rider. With powerful strides, they raced off to find Swayy.

----------

Jyme groped with his hands, and took off his helmet, gasping in the air of a suddenly bright, free world. Tryaust fell silent, and wouldn't speak again until the control gear was replaced. He stood uncomfortably.

"Jyme?" Spynn said slowly. Marianis and Kitt watched expectantly. Reepyr looked impatient.

"Jyme, are you alright?" He asked as Jyme focused his eyes on them. Kitt noticed that Jyme has the usual pale skin of the humans the Prophets controlled. His hair was a dull orange colour which split over the front of his face.

"Reepyr? Tryaust has found you." He said, using his right hand to hold the helmet and the other to brush his hair out of his face.

"Tryaust told you what he was doing?"

"Tryaust told me from the beginning, so I would not worry." He said and smiled warmly. Spynn sighed. Jyme seemed amused at her reaction. He put a hand on Tryaust's head. "He really does wish to help." He said to Spynn. Spynn shrugged her shoulders.

Reepyr spoke again, "the Dragon Booster is trapped. He has been tricked into entering the Shadow Track."

"What?" Jyme said, his eyes widening. Tryaust had the same reaction. "How…why in the Magna Draconis would the Dragon Booster enter the Shadow Track? Everyone knows it is a death trap."

Kitt jumped in. "No. It was, but the Dragon Booster destroyed it."

Jyme stared blackly ahead. "He destroyed it? But how?" Tryaust rumbled in dragon talk below him, before realizing no one could understand him. He fell silent and sulked.

Kitt shrugged. "Well, quite a few people managed to escape, so I guess it just…broke the track."

"Really? Amazing. This Dragon Booster really is a hero of legend. He destroys other legends." Jyme chuckled, then stopped. "But how is he trapped if the Shadow Track is broken?"

"Apparently," Spynn said, "this Moordryd Paynn created a huge rockslide and covered the entrance."

"But why? He…"

"His father is trying to start the next dragon-human war." Spynn explained. Jyme put a hand to his head and muttered softly.

"So we need to clear the entrance to free the Dragon Booster." Reepyr said. "We need to get down there somehow." The others paused as they thought.

"Tryaust and I could help." He offered. "We could cover you while you went down to the Old City."

"That would take too long, and it's extremely risky." Reepyr said. "We may not have enough time."

"That's the only way down there. Unless you know a better way? Oh, I know, let's go through the middle of the entire city without stepping foot outside. Or better yet, let's teleport there." Spynn said sarcastically. Reepyr tightened his mouth.

Jyme sighed. "With me and Tryaust covering you…that may be the only way. We have to risk it."

Marianis spoke up for the first time. "It is the only way. We can hide in the shadows and move quietly. Tryaust can coax other Prophets to leave, and, and the…he can fight of the wraith dragons…"

Tryaust grimaced and tried to speak again. His low bellows of dragon speak faded quietly. Jyme patted his head. "The wraith dragons would attack him, and try to force mind control gear on him. They would gang up on him. He must hide too when the wraiths come."

"I see Tryaust doesn't want to know what its like to be controlled by someone else." Spynn shot at him. Tryaust growled threateningly at her.

Kitt had been in deep thought. Should she bring them to Penn stables and use the elevator to reach the cave underneath? That was the practical way. Safe and reliable, and they would end up right in the Old City. Should she?

"We should leave now then." Marianis said. Reepyr nodded.

"Now is as good a time as any." He said. Kitt looked at them. She could trust Reepyr and Marianis, she was sure of that. But Spynn….

"Hey!" Spynn suddenly shouted loudly, startling Kitt. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked for the wraith that must have discovered them. But there was nothing. The tent remained the same as before. Except, Tryaust looked ashamed.

The shame that filled him, though, was quickly replaced by anger. He frowned and bared his teeth at Spynn.

"Stop it." Reepyr cut in. Tryaust roared as loudly as he dared. Spynn glared him down.

"What do you think you were doing? Hmm?" She crossed her arms and braced herself.

"It's alright, he must." Jyme replied from atop the Prophet. Reepyr nodded at Spynn.

"It...it's just not right." She finished.

"Tryaust must replace the gear before we go outside, otherwise all the Prophets would know of his…decision." Jyme said, and placed the control gear on his head. "It's not as bad as you may think." He managed to smile, whether it was forced, Kitt did not know, before Tryaust had it magged on him. Spynn gritted her teeth.

"Better now?" Tryaust murmured to Spynn through Jyme, who was now at his every whim.

"You lousy lizard…" Spynn stated. Tryaust hissed at her.

"Stop it." Reepyr said again. "We leave now, quietly."

"Oh, okay. I was planning on yelling my way out, but your plan sounds much more safer. Thank you for sharing your great intellect." Spynn said.

"I may just throw you to the wraiths when I see one." Reepyr retorted as he headed to the tent flap.

"Don't argue. Let's just go." Marianis said, eager to free the Dragon Booster and help Dorsull.

Kitt jumped in. "Wait." The others looked back at her.

"What now?" Tryaust asked.

"Parm and Lance are still down there, I should try to contact them first to, uh, see if there's any trouble or if they made any headway in freeing the Dragon Booster." Kitt explained.

"Good idea," Reepyr said.

"That's okay. We didn't need to know that before." Spynn said. Reepyr glared at her, but she made a point of ignoring him and keeping her eyes fixed on Kitt. Kitt sighed and turned on her wrist-comm. The screen came up green and static.

"Parm? Parm, are you there?" Kitt called to the device on her arm. "It's not…he's not…there's some kind of interference on his end, I think."

"Well, try Lance then." Marianis offered. Kitt tried Lance.

"Lance? What the…"

"What?"

"The signal…it can't find him. His comm-link is either off or broken." Kitt said, frowning. "He wouldn't have it off."

"Something must have happened, but what? Parm has interference and Lance's is broken…" Marianis left unsaid what they were all thinking. Perhaps something had attacked them, hydrags, wraiths or perhaps even Prophets.

"Did any of the two have gear on their dragons?" Tryaust asked.

"Well…Parm! He took red thruster gear with him!" Kitt nearly wailed. "I…that would explain the interference with his communication link."

"Lance might be hurt." Marianis pointed out.

"All the more reason to go. Now." Reepyr said and walked to the tent flap once more.

"Wait…I should call Connor." Kitt said.

"Who? Connor Penn? Why?" Spynn said grumpily. She was getting tired of the tent.

Kitt ignored her, and to her utmost relief, was able to contact Connor. As soon as he noticed who was calling him, he relaxed greatly. "Kitt. Are you alright?"

"Yes."

"You weren't hurt?"

"Well, Wyldfyr's a wraith now." Kitt said sadly. "And I would be a wraith right now too, but Moordryd pushed me off."

"He probably had a muscle spasm or something." Spynn said.

Kitt glared at her. "No. He meant to do it." Spynn rolled her eyes, obviously not believing her. Kitt didn't blame her.

"Did you get the draconium?" Connor asked.

"No. Wyldfyr turned into a wraith before I was able, then Moordryd ran off." The others looked at each other. Kitt had forgotten to mention the black shadow draconium to them.

"You have to get back down to the Shadow Track." Connor said impatiently.

"I know." She said.

"Come through the stables and…"

Kitt immediately cut him off once she knew where he was going. "Look. Here's Reepyr. He was here in Dragon City. Marianis and Spynn are here in the tent as well."

"Oh, bring them too." Connor said. Kitt didn't expect to hear that.

"Them? I mean…but…." She stumbled, realizing they were all staring at her. Bring them all through the stables? Didn't he hear her? Spynn was there as well.

Spynn took this opportunity to state her mind. "I don't clean stables, especially at a time like this."

"I doubt he wanted us to clean the stables." Marianis shot back at her, glaring.

"Kitt," Connor continued, "bring them all. Cyrano has been infected by the gear. You must hurry, Lance is in danger. Bring them to the cave, Kitt. All of them. We need their help. This Shadow Track, just doesn't make sense…." He trailed off and terminated the connection. He had things to do. Kitt realized she had forgotten to mention Tryaust to him.

Spynn looked incredulously at her. "Now we're hiding in the stables? I thought we had to help the Dragon Booster."

"We do," Reepyr replied before Kitt could say anything. "And to my knowledge, Connor Penn has breed the black and gold dragon of legend. He is friends with the Dragon Booster. He has a another way into the Old City." Reepyr guessed and looked at Kitt to see if he was right.

Kitt sighed, "Yes, he does. This way will be completely safe from wraiths or other Prophets."

"Well why didn't you tell us this before?" Spynn asked angrily.

"Because, I wasn't sure how far some people in this tent could be trusted." Kitt said in a voice devoid of tone. Spynn opened her mouth to retort, but thought better about it.

Tryaust shifted before speaking. "Then I can cover you while you go to these…stables."

Kitt nodded. They all prepared to exit the tent, to see if they could even make it to the stables.

----------

Lance and Fracshun padded along quietly. Lance shivered. He had always hated being alone, and now he was. He couldn't call the others, Artha was trapped, Kitt was gone, Moordryd had taken something dangerous with him, and Parm was a wraith. He crouched down in the saddle, trying to get closer to Fracshun's body heat. The wastelands were starting to get cold.

Suddenly, Lance heard a roar. He froze. It was behind him.

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Decepshun crouched behind the building. Moordryd leaned ahead on the saddle, peering around the wall. He had finally found her. He saw Swayy sitting calmly on her dragon as the other wraiths around her sniffed the air. Moordryd was glad he was upwind of them, he didn't dare attempt anything now. The other wraiths were his father's originals. Those two dragons had extra control gear with them. Moordryd couldn't chance getting caught. He would have to wait until Swayy was alone.

Decepshun blew at the ground in front of her. She was bored. So was Moordryd. He was itching to do something. He sat back in the saddle and stretched his arms, while Decepshun remained motionless. They couldn't make too much noise.

The carnage that had greeted Moordryd as he raced through the streets nearly made him vomit a number of times. The smashed remains of people unable to run out of the way of his father's wraith dragons turned some sections of the street to a sickly red hue.

Moordryd shook his head, trying to rid himself of those visions. He hoped he would never see anything like that again. But there was little chance of that. The war had started.

Moordryd peeked around the corner again. He tightened his grip on the handles. The two wraiths were lumbering off in the opposite direction, and Swayy still hadn't moved. He rattled the handles and Decepshun raised her head, knowing that they would be off soon. Moordryd just had to wait a few moments longer until the wraiths were completely out of sight.

Decepshun whipped her head around. She had heard something. She peered intently, but could see nothing. Perhaps it was her imagination. She tried to pierce the shadows lining the alley. The alley behind her was lit only by a single screen, advertising for a drag-café.

Awful stuff they had there. Moordryd had given her the rest of the coffee he was too disgusted to finish. And the advertisement stated that it was the finest in Mid City. Strange things she remembered at a trying time such as this. Perhaps she wanted to think of the lighter days, for the future promised too many dark ones.

The advertisement in the alley then flickered and died, bathing the secluded street in darkness. For a moment, it felt like the entire hope of Dragon City had died along with it. Whatever had been prowling in the shadows was now free to lurk about.

"Psst." Moordryd hissed at her. Then he looked behind him, to where she was scanning the shadows. "What's back there?" He whispered. Decepshun flicked her tail. She could see nothing. Moordryd cast one quick scan of the alley before dismissing it and turning back to the open street ahead. Decepshun reluctantly obeyed and moved forward. Perhaps there was nothing.

She padded silently onto the street, leaving the safety of the alley. Ahead she saw Swayy on her dragon. They hadn't noticed them yet. That was good.

Moordryd reached into his jacket and pulled out his mag-staff, then thought better of it, and pulled out his energy drain whip. He could use that on Swayy's dragon. Attempting any sort of mag move now would surely alert anything else that was near. He had to do this the old fashioned way. Decepshun slowly crept ahead, careful not too make too much noise.

Moordryd leaned down in the saddle to get closer to Decepshun's head. "Mag me after a couple more steps." He whispered. Decepshun put one foot before the other, stalking silently.

Without warning, a dragon leaped behind them, coming from the alley they had just exited. It opened its jaws wide and screamed at them. "What!" Moordryd said, alarmed. "No!" He turned from looking at the new dragon to look at Swayy again. She and her dragon snarled at him.

Decepshun snarled at the dragon behind her. So there had been something in the alley. "Phistus?" She heard Moordryd say as soon as he recognized the rider. Her eyes opened in recognition too. Phistus yelled and pulled out his hammar, swinging it in his hands. Brutarus lumbered up to them, watching them with wraith eyes.

Decepshun looked back and saw Swayy advance. They were going to gang up on them. "Decepshun, take care of Phistus. I'll free Swayy." Moordryd said, then jumped from the saddle. Decepshun caught him on a mag stream and nearly threw him to Swayy. She roared back at Phistus. If he came closer, he was going to get it.

Unfortunately, he didn't get the hint. Brutarus ran ahead at full speed, preparing to ram her. Decepshun used another mag stream to easily toss Brutarus into his side. She then aimed a quick mag burst to throw him down the street for nearly ten meters. She turned her attention back to Moordryd, her job finished for the moment.

As soon as Moordryd was within range, he snapped his whip, and soon had it latched onto Swayy's dragon. The dragon roared as its energy began to enter Moordryd's whip. Moordryd reached out his other hand and grabbed Swayy's arm roughly. His momentum pulled Swayy from the saddle, and they both crashed to the ground. Sadly, as he fell on the other side of Swayy's dragon, he lost his grip on his whip as it was pulled from his hands.

Swayy's dragon tossed his head, then quickly grabbed Moordryd's whip and threw it to the ground. He turned to look at the foolhardy young rider. He prepared to mag on Swayy. His head snapped quickly around as soon as he heard the footsteps of a running dragon. Decepshun caught him off guard, and swung her front paw, hurtling him to the side.

Decepshun skidded to a halt in front of Moordyd. Moordryd smiled up at her before turning back to Swayy. He winced as he turned too fast. He had landed hard on his right elbow when he had been trying to block Swayy from falling directly onto the street. Ignoring it for the moment, he reached out a hand to touch Swayy on her shoulder. He was instantly relieved to know she was back in her usual colours, and not the dark hues of the wraiths.

Swayy looked at Moordryd as she shakily sat on her feet. "What…" She started to say. She stopped in mid sentence as she looked past Moordryd, horrified. Moordryd sat up and turned. Swayy's dragon had gotten to his feet and was now standing beside Brutarus. Both were snarling directly at them.

"Swayy," Moordryd said, "run. Run into the alleys, anything safe. I'll take care of the dragons. Go to the compound." Swayy nodded her head, not in the mood to argue. She got to her feet, and lurched off to a safe spot.

Moordryd turned back to the wraiths. "Mag me." He said. Decepshun lifted him from the ground and placed him in the saddle. Moordryd glared at the wraiths as they screamed at him. He was getting tired of this. Swayy's dragon didn't deserve this, and, he hated to admit it, neither did Phistus. He relaxed as the familiar glow of purple surrounded him as he filled himself with mag energy.

Suddenly, the wraiths charged as Phistus raised his hammar and yelled. Moordryd grinned. His hands soon held balls of energy. He threw one hard at Swayy's dragon, then immediately threw another, less intense, at Phistus. Decepshun finished it by blasting Brutarus back.

Phistus was instantly thrown from Brutarus' saddle, and landed against a building before falling to the ground. No longer was he controlled by his dragon. Swayy's dragon was on the ground, writhing.

Decepshun walked up to him, and magged the control gear the rest of the way off. He shook his head and struggled to his feet as the gear clanged to the ground. He opened his mouth and sorrowfully moaned. "Swayy!" Moordryd called back over his shoulder. Swayy popped her head out from behind a dumpster. She noticed her dragon, and gleefully began to move forward.

Brutarus, though, got to his feet and roared at them. Moordryd half expected him to charge at them. But instead, Brutarus fixed his attention on Phistus. Phistus raised his head from the ground, then gasped in shock once he realized what Brutarus intended to do. Mag him on and make him a wraith once again. Phistus immediately scrambled to his feet and raised the hammar he had managed to hold on to. He backed away, fixing his dragon with a stern glare.

"Paynn!" He shouted.

Moordryd sighed, "What, Phistus?"

"What did you do? What has happened to my dragon?" He said, never taking his eyes off Brutarus. Brutarus snapped his jaws, then launched a mag stream towards Phistus.

Decepshun calmly met the mag stream with one of her own. "It's the gear, isn't it? Help me take it off Brutarus." Phistus spun the hammar in his hands as if he intended to break the gear off with it. Moordryd sighed. "Swayy, you…" He started to say, but stopped once he noticed what was standing behind Brutarus.

Swayy saw them as well, and both she and Phistus shared the same reaction. They looked on in near hoplessness. Moordryd noticed his whip out of the corner of his eye. Too close to the wraiths. He doubt he could grab it and get away unhindered.

The group of wraiths stood beside Brutarus. They eyed the humans and dragons before them with a fierce eye. Moordryd nearly groaned when he noticed that all had extra control gear with them. How was he to escape?

"Swayy, head to the compound, I'll lead the wraiths away." Moordryd said to her.

She shook her head. "I'm not leaving now!"

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not." She crossed her arms. Moordryd looked back a the wraiths.

"I can handle these wraiths and give you a chance to run."

"But I don't…" Swayy stopped when she noticed Moordryd's glare.

"I'm not going to let you become a wraith, again!" He nearly snarled. "Now get to the compound!" He stared her down until she turned her dragon, and ran off. Moordryd watched her go, then glanced at Phistus as he spoke up.

"What about Brutarus?" Phistus insisted.

Moordryd eyed the wraiths again. They were about to charge. "I don't know. There are too many wraiths. At least right now, but…," Moordryd paused as he gave his head a shake, "look, handle your own dragon, alright? But if I were you, Fist Face, I'd run. Fast." Moordryd said. Phistus nearly gaped at him with an open mouth, that is, until he suddenly looked back at the wraiths.

Watching Swayy's dragon run away had given the wraiths new interest in everything. They enjoyed chasing down their prey. After snapping at each other, they all charged as one. "Moor…" Phistus started.

"You're on your own." Moordryd said before Phistus could finish his name. He turned Decepshun sharply, and ran off in the opposite direction Swayy had taken. Phistus barely managed to jump behind a dumpster before the wraiths thundered past. They merely ignored him, as they all wanted the dragon running away before them.

Moordryd deviously maneuvered Decepshun on various streets, often jumping over huge piles of rubble, backtracking when possible and running past bloating corpses on purpose, hoping the stench would lead the wraiths to feast. No such luck. The wraiths remained hot on his heels, and Moordryd was finding it difficult to fend off their attacks to mag control gear onto Decepshun. He had been hoping he could lose them without mag moves of any sort, he was almost sure that was what had caused them to find him in the first place.

Decepshun ran on tirelessly as they reached Penn stables. Moordryd started. How did he get this far up into Mid City? Suddenly, just ahead, he saw a group of Prophets standing just outside of Penn stables. "Scales," He said under his breath and jerked the handles to the left.

The orange dragons nearly jumped back in surprise after Moordryd had nearly run into them. They stopped listening to one orange dragon, and turned their attention on the new arrivals. As soon as Decepshun fled from their sight, they noticed the gang of wraiths coming behind her.

Moordryd groaned. Wraiths, and now more Prophets. What next?


	9. Downfall of Dragon City: Part IV

Once again this chapter was originally going to be one, but I've decided to split it since it got rather long. Enjoy my longest chapter yet. Please R&R!

**Disclaimer:** I bet you already knew this, but I do not own Dragon Booster.

_

* * *

__The Downfall of Dragon City: Part IV_

The Prophets flexed their claws and roared. "Forget the free dragon. The wraiths are those who need freedom most!" One roared, and the others followed. The wraiths, noticing these other dragons, quickly forgot about Decepshun. They roared challenges at the oncoming possessed dragons. The wraiths lost sight of Decepshun and fixed their eyes on the Prophets. New prey.

As the Prophets and wraiths charged at each other, yet another horrific battle began in Dragon City. Just one of the numerous others that took place that day. As the wraiths used their claws and teeth to pin down the orange dragons and mag control gear onto them, the Prophets deviously and strategically fought back, aiming for the control gear each of the wraiths had. Moordryd used this convenient opportunity to escape.

He looked back over his shoulder as Decepshun quickly carried them away from harm. From the corner of his eye, he saw some huddled shapes cowering behind a dumpster. He turned his gaze back to the road ahead. He assumed they were several idiot people, too dumb to sneak away while they still could. But at least they still lived.

He hung his head as Decepshun raced on. So many wraiths, so many dead, and so many wounded. He had helped his father bring this war about. Now he was paying the price. At least his crew was free and safe. He should go back to the compound and see if Swayy got there alright.

But as Decepshun galloped along at an easy pace, something in the back of Moordryd's mind kept tickling him. He expected it was his conscience. He usually paid no heed to that, but on this day, he gave it some thought, then nearly gasped out loud. The entire city was in utter chaos, so much so, it was highly possible it wouldn't return to normal anytime soon, if it were at all possible. No more races! He wouldn't get into the academy, and he was so close! Life as he once knew it was gone. He couldn't do those little everyday things he took for granted. No more stealing dragons, pestering the other racers or simply living in Dragon City. His father had tricked him and took that all away.

He snarled. "The bastard!" he spat, and Decepshun listened, knowing Moodryd was onto something interesting. "Decepshun, no more races. We can't live in Dragon City anymore. My crew…my plans…we have to stop this!" He growled in determination. Decepshun raised her head and snarled, sharing his thoughts and feelings. Moordryd turned Decepshun onto a street that would eventually lead them to his father's citadel. It ended now.

----------

"Why Moodryd, I hadn't assumed you would be so much of a bother. Where are we headed now, I wonder?" Word nearly muttered into this hands as he had them folded together in front of his face, resting his forehead against them. "Perhaps it's time we had a talk." He grabbed a nearby wraith controller, and started maneuvering several wraiths. "I shall herd you near to me, my son. It ends now."

----------

Kitt, Marianis, Spynn and Reepyr were huddled close together behind a conveniently placed dumpster. They were waiting for the coast to be clear before they ran the rest of the way to Penn Stables. Kitt glanced warily around the corner. Tryaust had done a good job of covering them as they made their way carefully from the safety of the tent. And as soon as they reached the stables, Tryaust would accompany them down to the wastelands for protection and to help deal with wraith Parm. Without any hinder, they snuck past the stands, past the few stores surrounding the track, and now they were within sight of the still scarred stables. Unfortunately, they had also encountered an obstacle.

"This place still stinks." Spynn whispered.

"Oh, shut up!" Reepyr said, his patience wasted. Marianis sighed, as she was between the two.

"Both of you be quiet, before we're caught." She breathed, hoping to instill some peace.

"Is it my fault we're stuck hiding behind a disgusting dumpster?" Spynn said, glaring across Marianis at Reepyr. "But I suppose it was only natural for him to come here…." Reepyr bumped Kitt slightly as he turned to better look, or rather, glare at Spynn. Kitt rolled her eyes. Marianis hunched down as the two seemed to begin a staring contest over her head.

Kitt continued her surveillance of the front of Penn Stables. So close. The group of Prophets that stopped their headway were still talking with Tryaust. The orange dragons shifted on their feet, both anxious and excited, waiting to help other needy dragons.

"…would be making their way down further…."

"Nonsense. These top levels are still full of fights, they wouldn't abandon them and go down there. None are down there, not enough to hold their attention, at any rate. We Prophets are making the Controller's plans more than a little difficult for him." The current orange dragon leader of the small group, Sycundys, said through her rider. The Controller was the title the Prophets gave to whosoever was controlling the wraiths. Each and every one of the orange dragons have given an oath to stop this terrible monster, they would fight to the death.

Tryaust listened and slowly nodded his head while Jyme swayed with the motion. Few of either species had escaped to the lower levels. They had been picked up by the Prophets, and if not them, then the wraiths. Mid City and Sun City had become a war zone, disheveled by the violence. "I've not seen a wraith for some time, around these tracks and so called stables."

The orange dragon hissed. "Prisons for the dragons those stables are. And the tracks, pah! Running around in circles, every single scale scraping day! Don't those humans have any sense? What's the use in wasting a dragons energy on meaningless labor?"

"I've heard it was for amusement."

"For the weakling humans." Sycundys said as her rider snarled and stretched out the last word. "Some amusement, scampering on the same track time after time. You'd think they were bored of it by now." Her eyes prowled along the stable, watching and memorizing every corner.

Tryaust, had he been interested in a fiercely loyal dragon committed to ending the race of humans, would call her attractive. Though the color of her markings were much more subtle and paler than the male Prophets, they did cause anyone and everyone to stare. Uncommonly elaborate and sharp designs paid complement to her personality. She was complicated and as quick as anything. Nothing escaped her roving eye. Until this day. She still had not bothered to inspect the nearby dumpster.

"Those humans are most surely hiding within the buildings, where we dragons cannot easily get to." Sycundys said.

"They are hiding from the wraiths, and aren't they more important? Do they not need our help most?" Tryaust asked, trying to be as civil as the situation allowed for.

Sycundys let her eyes fall upon him. "Of course. But those meddlesome humans must be plotting something." She turned back to the other Prophets. "Watch the buildings while we search. These humans are foolhardy and…."

She was cut of as one foolhardy human on a black dragon almost sped into them. At the last minute, he jerked the handles and they took off down another street. The Prophets jumped back in surprise. Sycundys narrowed her eyes, furious at being caught off guard. Her rider opened his mouth to say something, then stopped as she noticed the gang of wraiths behind.

The Prophets flexed their claws and roared. "Forget the free dragon. The wraiths are those who need freedom most!" She roared, and the others followed. The wraiths, noticing these other dragons, quickly forgot about Moordryd and Decepshun, as they made good their escape and fled.

Kitt gasped. Moordryd! He was alive and kicking. And apparently running away. But where to? What had he done with the draconium?

"Moordryd? Where?" Reepyr asked, leaving Spynn to glare at his back. Kitt hadn't realized she'd spoken out loud.

"Gone now." She said.

Reepyr leaned over to peer with her. "Sycundys." He whispered partly surprised as he saw the Prophets.

"Sycundys?" Kitt asked as she watched the Prophets battle the wraiths. Was that Brutarus?

"Hmmm, perhaps you should've looked at the Prophets before, hmm?" Spynn crawled past Marianis and cooed in Reepyr's ears. He gritted his teeth as she leaned close. "Sycundys…sounds so…is she dangerous? Did we need to know that before? Might it have proved useful to know our surroundi…."

"Sycundys," Reepyr said, trying to ignore Spynn, "is the second in command of the Prophets. She is as dedicated to their cause as Propheci himself is."

"Oh, okay. Useless information, at least you didn't break your eyes checking them out before."

"I'll break your eyes…and then your neck…." Reepyr muttered, so low only Kitt could hear. Marianis scuttled close to look as well.

"Perhaps this can be our chance to go, when the battle's done. They might leave, chasing the wraiths…." She offered hopefully.

"Or win and look around for more threats. Maybe they'll find some behind Reepyr's house. Oh look, here it is." Spynn said, blinking absurdly at the dumpster.

"Will you just close your mouth? We don't need your…your sarcasm right now." Kitt silently agreed with Reepyr. Spynn was beginning to get on her nerves. Spynn tossed her head back and folded her arms, for the moment cooperating. As one, they all watched the battle.

The Prophets jumped on the wraiths, tearing at the gear with their claws. The wraiths then jumped at the Prophets, attacking with their claws. Several wraiths stood outside the mini battle, waiting for a good opportunity to mag gear on the Prophets. Sycundys noticed their plan, and broke away from the fighting and charged at them. Tryaust aided her, breaking the gear off one and helping her defeat another.

Soon the wraiths realized, with their artificial intelligence, that they were now outnumbered. They turned tail and fled, heading to find another group of wraiths so they could fight back with more even odds. The Prophets gave chase.

"Do not let them escape." Sycundys hissed, following closely. As the last of the orange dragons gave chase and disappeared into the distance, Tryaust glanced momentarily back. Leaving now to come back to them would land him in trouble with the Prophets, which was something they could not afford. Quickly, he too disappeared.

"He has done well. It isn't far now. Come, follow." Reepyr said, taking leadership, and crouched as he ran along a building, staying in what shadows he could find. The others followed.

Thankfully, they made it into the stables without trouble. Reepyr walked along a wall and sprang behind a huge, charred, fallen beam, not yet cleared away from the original fire. Once again, the others followed suit.

"There may be more wraiths in the stables, hiding." Reepyr whispered. "Which one is it?" He asked Kitt.

"That one," Kitt motioned with her head. "Second on the right."

Reepyr smiled with relief. "Not far."

"Looks far to me. We have to go out into the open." Spynn said, leaning her hands on the beam.

"Why don't we just run? The wraiths can't follow once we're in the stable, can they?" Marianis questioned.

"I…not if we make it into the stable…I don't think so. Let's do it." Kitt said, determination filling her eyes. Her friends were in trouble.

"Precious time is slipping away." Spynn nodded her agreement.

"On the count of three." Kitt said, catching the others in a serious look. "One…two…three!"

They jumped and raced across the dangerous expanse. With no cover, their hearts thudded in their ears, each of them expecting a wraith to suddenly leap out at them with jaws gaping open. They heard not a sound as they made it safely into the stable. They stopped at he far side, breathing heavily, more from the fear than from the run.

"Okay, so we're supposedly near this elevator, but how in the Magna Draconis are we going to rescue the Dragon Booster and free Parmon?" Marianis said, still trying to control her racing heart. "We have no dragons or weapons and Tryaust isn't able to come. We can't do it alone."

Kitt realized this was true. She had been so eager to just get down there, she had forgotten that Tryaust wasn't coming. She looked to the others, and their drooping smiles told her they had experienced the same thoughts. She felt as if her hopes had just fallen to the ground and had been trodden on by Word Paynn himself.

"Wait." Reepyr said, bringing her hanging head up. "Is there anything in here we can use?"

"Sure, like Penn Stables will have a decent weapon." Spynn rolled her eyes.

"We don't need weapons. Any gear can do." Marianis shot out at her.

Kitt spoke before Spynn was able to open her mouth again. "The gear room is a few stables down. We keep everything in there."

"Does that include anything useful?" Spynn said.

"Well, then we'll have to look and see, now won't we? We shouldn't all go, that could attract too much attention. Spynn and Marianis can go." Reepyr said and waited for an objection. There was none. Spynn was happy because she was doing something, so she said nothing. And Marianis just wanted to get going, so she obliged and followed Spynn as they carefully snuck out.

"You wanted them to leave on purpose." Kitt said, watching their shadows fade as they scuttled beside the wall and out of sight. Reepyr spoke in the sudden silence.

"Kitt, they don't know Artha is the one trapped, do they?"

"No."

"How much do you trust them? Spynn and Marianis?"

"I trust Marianis. She's helped before and has sided with the Dragon Booster. Spynn…."

"Has sided against the Dragon Booster?"

"Yes." Kitt sighed. "I'm worried of what she'll find out, and if she'll tell this to anyone. Of the cave…people may be able to draw conclusions. And what if Artha isn't the Draogn Booster when we free him? What if he magged down, and Spynn sees him walk out. That's…that's big trouble."

"Then I'll be sure to keep her busy when he comes out." Reepyr said and smiled faintly. "I wouldn't mind holding her down." He joked, then noticed Kitt's face where a faint smile of bemusement was growing. "With force. Er, by pushing her down…to annoy her…you know what I mean." He said, becoming flustered. "Not that I would like to hold her…." Kitt laughed at his stumbles.

"I know. She'll hate you forever if you deny her the chance of seeing the Dragon Booster without armor." Kitt said for his sake. "And you'll be glad to annoy her."

"Yes. I didn't mean it in any other way." Reepyr said, hoping to convince her.

"Of course not."

Their conversation ended there when they heard Spynn and Marianis return. "Way to be quiet." Reepyr smirked to Spynn. Spynn glared at him. She and Marianis came to back and stood beside the two.

"Find anything useful?" Kitt asked quickly.

Spynn nodded to Marianis, and Marianis held up….

"What is that?"

Spynn glared at Reepyr. "This just happens to be a, well, I'm not sure of the exact name. We found it on the desk underneath a bunch of useless junk."

"How useful." Reepyr eyed the strange device. "It looks like…binocs?"

Kitt took the binocs from Marianis. "These are Parm's!"

"How lovely." Spynn said, not really caring who owned them.

"Well…isn't there anything more useful? I mean, the stable should be full of…."

"No. It's empty."

"What?" Kitt said surprised.

"E-M-P-T-Y." Spynn spelt out. "There's nothing there. This is it."

"But, where did everything go?" Kitt said as she gripped the binocs tightly.

"I assume some people, after everything happened, looted it. We've seen several idiots looting that gear shop on the way down." Kitt listened, almost disbelievingly, to Spynn. She did remember, as they snuck their way to the stables from the tent, several idiots looting the store after breaking the window. Of course, they didn't want to call attention to themselves, so they let them be. But looting Penn Stables as well?

"So, these binocs are the only thing in there?" Reepyr asked.

"Unless you want to try giving the hydrags and wraiths paper cuts with the paper, otherwise, zilch." Spynn said and folded her arms. "Though I bet we could dent a dragons head if we throw that hard thing enough."

"We don't need to throw it." Kitt said as she turned it over in her hands, finally recognizing its potential. "Parm made these. He's interfered with gear signals before. And he has configured it to do it again, if need be."

"So we can use it to interfere with the wraith's signals, the ones coming from the gear. That can free Parmon!" Marianis exclaimed. "Then he can use Cyrano to help us free the Dragon Booster!"

Reepyr smiled at the plan, Kitt's heart leaped at the realization, Marianis came one step closer to saving her friends, and Spynn felt useful. After all, she was the one who found it. With a half way formed plan, there was nothing left to do except free the hero. They were wasting time.

Kitt immediately walked over to one side, and soon the boards opened. Marianis looked into the new, small room with wonder. They walked carefully inside.

"So, is this the elevatoooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrr…." Spynn shouted as the floor suddenly dropped from beneath. Before they knew it, they stopped and the doors opened into the cave. Kitt walked off, glad that they were finally down here. The ride down seemed to have taken longer than usual.

She realized she was alone, and glanced around for the others. "Aren't you coming?" She snapped them from their gazes around the cave.

"Where in the Magna Draconis are we?" Marianis whispered. "What is this place?" Gingerly, they walked up to Kitt.

"This is where Dragon Priests once lived. Only one remains here now." Kitt explained.

"There's a Dragon Priest?" Reepyr queried, excited. "Where is he?"

"Mortis. I don't know." Kitt said, disappointed. She would've liked to talk to him. She was faintly angered when she noticed Marianis and Spynn inspecting the statues. "We didn't come here to look at hunks of rock. The Dragon Booster needs our help." She snarled. She was getting impatient. Marianis snapped up quickly, but still obviously interested in the ancient statues. Spynn took her time before she looked at Kitt.

"Let's go then." She said.

Kitt led them through the cave, trying to hurry them along as they slowed to look at the walls and surroundings. They had to hurry.

After a while of marching through the caves, they finally stepped out into the wastelands and Kitt groaned out loud. They had no dragons. It would take them a long time to get to the Shadow Track. She kicked up dirt as she marched sullenly out into the stale air.

"We have to walk the whole way?" Spynn said, stumbling after Kitt.

"Yes, Spynn, just keep moving your feet." Marianis replied, walking briskly up to Kitt from the shelter of the cave mouth. "How far?"

"It could take us a while, I'm not sure exactly how long without dragons." Kitt said as she tried to remember the distance. The wastelands yawned out before her, flat and barren, or would be if not for the mounds of broken rubble from the Old City.

Kitt, Spynn and Marianis started to walk at a pace described at best as a slow amble. Spynn scampered onto a once proud statue. Only the head of a once noble warrior perhaps, remained, weathered by the coarse wind and merciless passage of time. Spynn stood on the huge nose and looked around. "I say," she said, standing tall as the wind whipped her blue hair about her face, "wherever could our faithful old friend, Reepyr be? Reepyr!" She called out almost melodious. "Where are you? Still in the cave?"

Reepyr cautiously moved over to them and hunched near the statue. Spynn grinned smugly down at him, amused by his tentative attitude. "Walking here is dangerous, even with a dragon. Have you not thought of the Hydrags?" Reepyr said. "Without Tryaust for some protection…."

"Perhaps he will make it down, when he can safely leave the other Prophets. I think I told him where the cave was. Perhaps he could find his way out down here." Kitt said hopefully. "By himself. He doesn't strike me as stupid."

Reepyr thought her words over. "Perhaps."

Marianis cut in. "We can't wait for him, we have to go now."

They all nodded, and set off. Spynn grimaced once she jumped off the statue. "Now I've got sand and dirt in my shoes." She said as she shook her feet.

"Just keep walking." Reepyr said, staring straight ahead, slightly smiling at Spynn's misfortune. Spynn hopped along, shaking her feet. When most of the sand had been shaken out, she kicked sand at Reepyr's back. Marianis looked sideways at Kitt. This was going to be a long walk.

But thankfully for them, it was an uneventful walk. That is, if they discounted the hydrag that nearly scared them all silly before they realized it was barely bigger than their waist. It simply snarled and ran off, it's courage not yet ready to let him take on four enemies.

It was also a quiet walk. The only sounds besides their own voices were few. The wind racing past them from the other end of the forgotten city and the distant echoes of barks, growls and howls from mysterious animals were the only other sounds heard. Once, Kitt heard a high pitched yipping noise, the like of which had never been heard before by humans in nearly a thousand years. The others hadn't heard it, and Kitt didn't hear it again.

The land lay before them, and went on endlessly. They began to drag their feet. They weren't used to walking such distances. Spynn and Reepyr didn't help any, with their constant bickering. Tempers started to run short.

Marianis sighed and walked beside Kitt ahead of the other two. For the past while, they had let Spynn and Reepyr argue behind them. They had long since given up trying to reconcile the two. "Soooo…it shouldn't be that much farther? Considering the distance we've already covered…."

Kitt glanced at the rubble around them as she fingered Parm's binocs. "You're right. We should be very close." She said worriedly.

"Recognize anything?" Marianis asked, stifling a sigh. Her interest in the ancient ruins was at an all time low. At first, she was amazed by the structures, but now she wanted them demolished so she could see what was behind them. The Shadow Track, hopefully.

Kitt peered intently at her surroundings. "Erm, I don't remember that particular boulder, or that broken…rock thing…." She said, perplexed. The rock was cut obviously by human hands, but what it was supposed to be, she had no idea. "But I do know we're going the right way." She said to suppress any doubts Marianis might have thought up.

Marianis gave a heavy sigh as Spynn and Reepyr's voices floated up to them. "…I do not look like a hydrag's butt!"

"You haven't really bothered to look in a mirror lately, have you?" Spynn yawned. "I didn't know you were so sensitive about your looks…."

Kitt could almost hear Reepyr grind his teeth. "I'm not. Though it can get rather irritating when you say that for over three hours!"

"We haven't been walking for three hours, silly." Spynn said, and pranced up to Kitt and Marianis. Reepyr fumed. "We there yet?" She asked, now walking between them.

"Soon." Kitt replied without turning her gaze from the path before her, her voice filled with impatience and undaunted determination. Spynn wisely said nothing more. Kitt's tone now shut the other's mouths as well, like an invisible vice. Kitt had no room left for tolerating their immature arguing. She had to save her crew.

The wind whistled past her ears, intensifying the silence that had just begun. But aside from the mournful moan of the wastelands, it also brought the steady beat of dragon feet. Kitt stopped and listened harder. It sounded as though a…small dragon was…running… very fast. Her heart leaped with hope. Fracshun? Lance? But, what was that other sound? It was the sound of another dragon running. A big dragon, running quickly. Who was it? Artha? Parm? A hydrag? Kitt was about to find out. The others with her tensed as they too heard the sounds approach….

----------

Connor surveyed the city from behind his Dragon Priest mask. He was, at the moment, as safe as he could be. He was in the very back of a deep alley, surrounded by tall buildings on either side, advertisements flickering with the musings of a dying city. He held his staff tightly and forced himself to stop thinking about his children as Captain Faier spoke again.

"It just doesn't feel right, Mortis." Faier said sullenly. "My duty is to the people, to the city. Abandoning it feels…."

"I know. But it must be done. You can only kill yourself if you stay." Mortis said gravely. Faier narrowed his eyes and stared at the ground. He sighed heavily, gripping his right arm tightly. Blood ran over his hand and continued to stain his tattered uniform. The huge gash on his upper right arm had not stopped bleeding since the wraith had attacked. Had Connor, disguised as Mortis, not been there at that precise moment, Faier would have felt more than the wraith's sharp claws on his arm. Faier needed to have it tended to, and soon.

Mortis silently approved of his sense of duty and his honor. But there was nothing more which could be done here. Dragon City was a lost cause. The humans were either attempting to sneak to the lower levels where they had heard the wraiths were fewer, or they were cowering in their homes. Either way, few could be rescued. The wraiths had multiplied since Word's new control gear had preformed so well, and the Prophets had been able to convince many dragons to join them. The streets were a bloodbath, a never ending battle between the two groups.

Frair held his right arm stiffly with his left hand. "I don't like it. There are still people out there." Faier responded stubbornly. Connor sympathized.

"But what would you do?" He asked. "You know you will be captured by either group, or killed if you're caught between their battles. They're beginning to kill instead of capture, as it takes less time." Mortis watched as Faier seemed to listen and see from his point of view. Time was running short, and Mortis wasted none in issuing Faier orders. "While you head to Down City, bring those you find along the way."

Faier sighed and clenched his teeth from the jagged pain radiating from his arm. "You…." He started, then faltered, trying to get his sentence in order, "I'll help those I can while I…run away." Connor very nearly sighed, and would have if Faier had not continued. "But I will…I will counter attack, when the time is right. I may be leaving these people now, but I won't leave them for too long."

"We shall see what happens. We can talk later when we're in a safer place." Mortis said, turning. Captian Faier turned to his blue dragon. Back straight, he mounted his dragon and turned back to the Dragon Priest who had saved his life.

Tyrannis Pax flexed his claws on his four arms. His massive head watched his rider as he approached. Mortis turned back to Faier just as he reached Tyrannis Pax. "I'll need you later. I'm counting on you to meet me in either Down City or the Old City." He said with authority, and Faier nodded grimly.

"Will the Dragon Booster meet us there as well? I hope to hear from him. He…."

"The Dragon Booster will meet us when he is able." Mortis said suddenly, cutting Faier off. "Go now." Tyrannis Pax then magged him into the air and dropped him gently onto his head. Mortis glared at Faier before he scampered off quickly on his dragon. Connor settled into the saddle, and let Tyrannis fill him with mag energy. The gentle coursing of the energy relaxed, him, as it always did. "Tyrannis. We have someone to meet." Tyrannis snorted, knowing that an encounter with Paynn was about to happen.

Tyrannis Pax moved as stealthy as an eighty foot dragon could in the narrow alleys. They turned a corner and entered into another section, where Tyrannis was forced to duck his head. Metal walkways spanned through the air, connecting the closely packed buildings. They were heading into the more populous sections of the alley. Darkened screens started to emerge. The stations had long since gone out of order, due to the rising chaos.

But still nearly half the advertisements were lit, a stark contrast to the others that were dark. In this way, the alley way was bathed in half darkness, forcing Connor to peer through the gloom, trying to penetrate the darkness.

As soon as he could get out of the confining alleys, he would find Word Paynn. Perhaps all he needed was to see some sense. Connor only hoped the situation wouldn't get worse. How long till order was restored and the evil beaten? How much longer until Kitt rescued Artha? The longer he was trapped, the more dangerous the city became and the hope of returning things quickly to normal vanished.

Suddenly, the silent screens lining the alley burst to life, full of color. The shocking light caused Connor to cry with surprise and shield his eyes. Tyrannis halted immediately and blinked rapidly, the light filling his entire vision. What Connor heard next was the unmistakable laughter of Word Paynn. Was he here?

No. Connor realized as his eyes grew accustomed to the bright environment and his heartbeat slowed, somewhat. Word had somehow managed to tap into the signals and broadcast his image over all the screens in Dragon City. Word smiled from within the screen, his eyes full of malevolence.

Connor braced himself. What was Word doing?

"Greeting, citizens of Dragon City." Word said as he leaned forward. Connor was slightly surprised. Word was not in his citadel, but rather, somewhere in Mid City. Connor could see the looming buildings and distinct signs. Word was also wearing his helmet, probably because he was riding his dragon. But why would Word leave the safety of his citadel? Unless he assumed his takeover of Dragon City was going smoothly. Connor's hopes began to wilt. Word continued. "I also greet the Prophets, who have made an unexpected appearance in Dragon City. Quite surprising, but not at all a nuisance. I give you a warning. Leave now. Staying will only bring you an undesirable demise."

Word's voice echoed across the great city, his message available to all. Every single screen proclaimed his important musings. From the rich, sitting smug and worried in their secure mansions in Sun City, to the few homeless and poverty stricken citizens who remained, who were forced to huddle in the streets in groups, they heard it all. "The wraiths have taken over the city. Sun City, Mid City and Work Town are currently completely under their control…under my control." Word smiled to the masses.

Collective gasps were at the moment common. Everyone stared in surprise. Word Paynn? The wealthiest man in the city? Owner of the largest gear manufacturing company on the entire planet? The man who practically owned Down City? He controlled the wraiths? The wealthy felt deceived that Word, someone whom most had dealt and met with at one point or another, would destroy the city and their lives. The poor felt more hopeless than ever before, and knew now that the rich were truly monsters. To make the feelings worse, Word laughed. A long, boastful laugh. Shivers ran down spines and the fear intensified.

Word stopped and looked once more into the heart of the city. "Precinct and Shadow Town are overrun, and will fall shortly. Down City is next. You will be driven into the Old City, into the wastelands. How many of you can survive? If any stay, human and dragon alike, who aren't committed to me, will suffer disastrous consequences." Word sneered.

Connor felt like sneering back. Word's cold, heartless grey eyes bored into his. "Do not blame me for your misfortune. You humans have brought it upon yourselves. You have enslaved dragons. Dragons are your equals, and you have mistreated them. They have been abused by you for too long! For thousands of years they have acted like your slaves. Now, it is their turn to rule. Under my guidance, they shall control you. Dragons are the source of power. Realize this. And realize, too, that you are suffering the consequences. A new world is forming, know your place in it." Word spat and terminated the connection, leaving the screen to darken. And suddenly, the alley was once more shrouded in darkness. Connor groaned as he tried to once again, see through the shadows. As he waited for his night vision to return, he contemplated Word's words.

It felt like a giant fist had hold of his heart, as the fear sank into him. Connor hadn't expected this. Word had revealed himself to the whole city. This wasn't another one of his plans where he would retreat once the going was too rough and start work on his next one. This was it. If this plan failed, his whole life was ruined. His company would most likely shatter, he would be hunted down by the DCS and anyone else who felt brave enough and held enough anger in their hearts. Word couldn't simply fade into the darkness and work on his next idea, this was it. He would either win, or be utterly defeated. This especially worried Connor, for Word would now do whatever it took to make sure he did win.

Those three little words repeated themselves in Connor's head. This was it. The war had finally arrived. And Word had done a good job of ensuring his victory. He had gotten rid of the Dragon Booster.

"Go Tyrannis. Quickly." Connor said, pushing the handles forward. Tyrannis obliged and rushed as best he could. Connor knew where Word was. In the lower levels of Mid City, just above Work Town. Connor had noticed a sign in the distance when Word was on the screen. The Drag-Café had its headquarters in one building and one building only, which happened to be right behind Word Paynn.

----------

"The filth!" Sycundys roared. The group of Prophets had lost the wraiths after another short battle. The wraiths had disappeared, and Sycundys had let them be, for following them would only bring them to more wraiths. They were wounded from their encounter and needed to heal and regroup.

The orange dragons all growled. The Controller. Tryaust growled with them. The Controller would pay.

"Hush." Sycundys' rider spoke sharply. Sycundys looked at the other Prophets while she weighed the options in her head, her scales glinting in the light. "I do not believe he lies. He tells the truth, and I can see the wickedness in his eyes. Gather the rest of the crew, we meet with Propheci."

"Do we return to the Old City?" Tryaust asked.

"We do what Propheci requires we do." Sycundys said bluntly. The group of Prophets raced off, and Tryaust knew he could not simply leave them to find Reepyr and the others. For the time being, he must stay with the orange dragons to avoid suspicion.

----------

Word grinned from beneath his helmet, observing the wreckage of Mid City. Abanddonn trudged along, guided by Word's firm hand. The streets were devoid of activity. Word and his escort of wraiths were a fearsome sight. The few who saw them cowered in fear, for they now knew who he was. Who he truly was, and what his plans were.

The wraiths, visible only to Word by the use of his helmet, circled around him, on the lookout for any danger. Not that anyone would be foolish enough to attack.

Abaddonn stalked the streets, heading towards the desired meeting place Word had chosen to meet with his son. Meanwhile, Word had sent ahead seven wraiths to make sure his son would meet him there. Word couldn't have Moordryd running around Dragon City. He had to get a few things straight with him.

Word rode atop his dragon, a glum expression on his face. He knew his son was drifting away. Ever since Armaggeddon had started meddling with him…. But, Word decided, when he met with Moordryd, he would have things set straight. He wanted to know right now, whether Moordryd had actually turned against him. It ended now, for better or worse.

----------

Moordryd sat almost placidly on Decepshun. The screen that had once been lit up before him in a dazzling amount of light was now dark and dead. The streets were clear of any danger and Moordryd felt safe to pause for a moment.

His father had let the hatchling out of the bag. Moordryd had felt his guts twist in a knot when he heard his father's message. The war had started and he was right in the middle of it all. And the idiot Dragon Blunder had gotten himself trapped….why was he so stupid? Couldn't he tell he was being set up by Moordryd?

Moordryd rolled his head back and cracked his neck. How was he to stop his father from ruining his life? All his plans were dashed to pieces with the way the war was starting. How was he to single handedly stop it?

Busy with plotting his father's downfall, Moordryd wasn't paying attention to his surroundings. Luckily for him, Decepshun was. Her lips curled into a growl as she heard something approach from behind. Moordryd was instantly snapped from his thoughts. He swung his head quickly around, but saw nothing. Scales. He hated being stalked by unseen things.

Decepshun lowered her body to the ground, her weight resting on her forelegs, ready to either run or fight. Moordryd tensed his body, as ready as she. She growled again, as if something were coming closer. Still, Moordryd saw nothing. But in this day and age, that didn't mean there was nothing there.

Decepshun suddenly swung her head to the left, leaving Moordryd to cope with the sudden and unexpected movement. As they both looked, they saw the footprints. Footprints appearing right out of thin air. Decepshun growled to them, and then swung her head back to it's original position and growled again.

Moordryd knew there were at least two wraiths, one straight ahead and another to his left. Time to head right. Decepshun sprinted away, and unseen, the wraiths grinned and followed in hot pursuit.

Moordryd followed the street, for the buildings on either side gave him only one way to go until another street appeared. He looked behind, and was relieved to know that the wraiths were now visible. One was bipedal and the other ran on four legs. By their appearances, the one was a red dragon, and the other, blue. Moordryd had been hoping for no red dragons, they were pretty fast.

Coming up quickly ahead, was an intersection. Moordryd turned Decepshun's handles left, and gasped. The wraith waiting directly in the middle of the street snapped it's jaws. Decepshun tried to avert her intended course and run straight through the intersection instead, but was faced with another wraith. Roaring with surprise, she then skidded to a near stop and pushed off with her hind legs. Moordryd and Decepshun darted down the right street. The two wraiths that had been following turned with eased and continued their pursuit. The other two wraiths fell in behind. Now Moordryd had four wraiths on his tail.

Decepshun soon left the huge buildings behind and ran onto a drag way. This way soon turned into a bridge, which spanned over a part of Work Town. Promising a nearly mile long fall to the huge equipment, Moordryd was subtly relieved when the bridge ended and became a poorly lit tunnel. This soon sloped downward, as it curved, taking Moordryd to Work Town. The wraiths followed relentlessly.

Decepshun carried him out of the tunnel when it ended, and Moordryd has a split second to decide his next direction because of Decepshun's speed. The tunnel opened into a street, which forked before him. The right branch of the fork had a wraith waiting in the middle. Moordryd was forced to go left, and soon he had five wraiths behind him.

Now Moordryd was just above the huge machines and work sections of Work Town. The deserted street gave him only one option: he was forced to keep going forward. Surprisingly enough, any streets or walkways that split from the street he was on was blocked with rubble and fallen sections of buildings. Moordryd found this odd, and wondered vaguely if that had been done on purpose, for it seemed as though the wraiths were steering him somewhere.

Moordryd had no more time to ponder on this, as the street finally gave way to another intersection, of which there was no wreckage to block the streets. Instead, both the left and right streets branching off held a wraith. Moordryd was once again forced to go a certain direction. This time forward. The two wraiths soon ran behind, and now Moordryd had seven wraiths following.

Something was definitely wrong. Those wraiths had waited until he was safely past, then simply ran along with the others. They were waiting as though they knew he was coming. If so, why hadn't they attacked? Why wait until he was past?

His unease grew when the street he was on started to narrow. Looking ahead, he saw that it stopped. The open air beyond it caused Decepshun to halt a few feet from the edge. Moordryd whipped his head around to look at the wraiths. They had also stopped, and were waiting. Something was wrong.

Moordryd looked forward once again, and saw that the street, though it ended, continued on as a very narrow walkway. It crossed over an unusually active section of Work Town. Huge gears, machines and buildings were running below. Although it was nearly a half mile down, Moordryd could hear the steady hum and clank of the gear. Sadly, the walkway was designed for human purposes only. Decepshun could never fit onto that. They were trapped.

The wraiths actually yawned, apparently bored. Why had they stopped, just when their prey was cornered?

"Moordryd." The voice came from the walkway, and there in the middle of the great expanse, stood Word Paynn. "Come here." He called loudly.

Moordryd stayed on Decepshun, uncertain. So the wraiths had been herding him. They were herding him to his father. Which was what they both wanted. Moordryd did want to overthrow his father's new reign of terror.

Word called again, in a tone filled both with authority and a calming demeanor. "The wraiths will not harm Decepshun, Moordryd. Leave her and come here." Still, Moordryd hesitated. Moordryd swallowed, fingered Decepshun handles for what may prove to be the last time and tried to find his courage. This was it.

Under the watchful glare of his father, Moordryd dismounted slowly.


	10. Downfall of Dragon City: Part V

Sorry for the long wait, but at least this is done now. :P

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dragon Booster

* * *

_The Downfall of Dragon City: Part V_

"Should we hide?" Marianis questioned as the sound of dragon footsteps grew louder.

Marianis, Spynn, Kitt and Reepyr stood side by side, each one of them staring ahead. All around them on all sides, were mounds of broken stone and other rubbish. The so called path before them was actually made and maintained by the daily passage of hydrags. Thanks to them, they had a clear route to travel on. It angled directly towards the Shadow Track, and, as Kitt estimated, would cut their walking distance in half.

At first, they had all been worried about walking on the path, for fear of meeting a hydrag. As Reepyr pointed out, there were many of these paths in the Old City and hydrags tended to keep to these paths. But he had also pointed out that it was abandoned, and hadn't been use for quite a while. They could find no evidence of footprints, and in several places, rubble from the heaps around them had fallen onto the track. Had hydrags frequented this path often, these would be instantly moved in their own fashion. For many of those chunks were too big and blocked nearly the entire path, leaving too small a space for any hydrag to fit through.

With no time to waste, they agreed to chance the path. And, it seemed to have worked. Had they not taken the path, would they have missed Lance and Parm? For if Kitt's guesses were correct, they were headed directly towards them.

The footsteps grew louder, the thudding echoing through the dismal atmosphere. Kitt heard a faint, distant crash as one or both of the dragons slammed into the ruins.

But try as hard as she might, there was no hope of being able to spot what was coming in time. The path ran in a straight line before them for about fifty dracometers, but then abruptly made a nearly ninety degree turn to the left. The piles of wreckage and rubble prohibited any view of what may be coming around the corner.

Reepyr looked around and scuttled to a large boulder, from where they could easily hide behind and remain unseen by whatever was coming. He placed a hand on it, inspected it closer, and looked back to the others. "Here."

"What, why?" Kitt asked as she noticed Spynn and Marianis start towards Reepyr. "What if that's Frachsun and Lance? He needs our help with Parm."

Marianis turned to Kitt. "And if that's Parm behind him? We don't have any weapons. Surprise is our best chance."

Reepyr nodded. "Then we can see if Parmon's binocs can really interfere with the wraith signal."

Kitt nodded in agreement. They were up against a wraith without any weapons. Soon, they all were huddled once again behind something. Spynn turned the binocs over in her hands since the others had let her carry them from Mid City.

"And these turn on how?" She asked. Kitt reached for them and took them.

"Erm, here," she said. Pressing a button Parm had clearly labeled, 'initiate entity,' the binocs flashed to life. "And to interfere with a wraith's signals…hmm…."

They all crowded close as the footsteps grew louder. Reepyr looked at the many buttons and switches closely, many of which had no label. "'Disengage device,' 'galvanize transmission?'"

"'Self-destruct,' what?" Spynn said as she read one. "Self-destruct?" She repeated, subtly shocked. Marianis just shrugged and then moved to the edge of the draconian boulder, gingerly putting her hands on the wet, mossy surface. She peered around the edge.

"Do you see them yet?" Kitt asked without taking her eyes from the binocs.

"Not yet," Marianis replied and settled herself down in her new position as the lookout.

"Move," Spynn hissed as they crowded around Parm's binocs. Reepyr glared at her as she flapped her hand at him.

"What about, 'defer paraphernalia lock,'" Reepyr suggested.

"I don't think so," Kitt replied. As they conversed about the many buttons, Marianis' voice jolted them all.

"I see them, I can see them!" She said, both excited and nervous, tempted to point but knew such an act could ruin their surprise.

"Who, Lance?" Kitt asked at the same time Reepyr said, "Parmon isn't too close, is he?"

"Both of them," Marianis replied. She gasped, "Parmon is…he's a wraith!"

"Well how much longer do we have?" Reepyr said angrily, though he knew it couldn't be too long since the turn was only fifty dracometers away. Marianis was undaunted by his tone.

"Less than a minute at the speed they're going," she guessed. Kitt could easily hear the thundering dragon feet. Tiny rocks and pebbles around them began to shake with the steady beat. A loud roar by Cyrano caused them all to scrutinize the binocs faster. "Come on, haven't you found how to…."

"We're looking!" Spynn shouted and reached out a finger to press a random button.

"Shut up, before Parm hears you!" Kitt hissed and pulled the binocs slightly out of Spynn's reach.

Reepyr suddenly plucked the binocs from Kitt's hands and pointed to a button. "What about, 'interfere with a wraith signal?'" He asked. They all stared at the conveniently labeled button which was half hidden on the underside of the device.

"Well, press it or something!" Spynn said. Kitt glared at her for using her loud voice, but Spynn merely glared back at her.

Reepyr held the bincos and moved to Marianis. "Stand aside," he said as politely as the moment allowed for. Marianis moved back and stood so she could see over the boulder. Kitt and Spynn did the same. As Kitt poked her head above the rock, she gasped and cringed inside.

Frachsun was running as fast as his legs could carry him, urged onward by Lance. Behind him thundered Parm and Cyrano, both inky black. Parm's red eyes gazed ahead in a frenzied state. Kitt lowered her head, afraid he might see her. Reepyr crouched near the edge and pointed the binocs at them.

"Lance is in the way, and when he passes by us, I'll have a split second with a clear shot before Parm races past us as well," Reepyr explained as he was poised for action.

"Why don't you wait till Parm races past?" Spynn whispered.

"Because," Reepyr whispered back, "he may notice us and attack us. And we won't have the rock to hide behind, we'll be trapped against it." He looked back at the others. "What are you doing? Get down!"

Spynn rolled her eyes and dropped down. Marianis took one last glance at the dragons, then lowered herself as well.

"Come on, Fracshun," Lance panted in a worried voice. They were close enough now that Kitt could hear the heavy breathing from their exertion. Suddenly, they blew past the rock, and Kitt was relieved to see them unhurt. Lance whipped his head around and looked at them in astonishment. Reepyr held the binocs out before him and focused on Parm. Kitt saw the binocs light up in use and heard Parm bellow with rage.

Unexpectedly, Cyrano screeched into view, sliding along the ground from his high speed. He came to a rest beside the boulder and lifted his head, roaring. He sat on the ground as the signal from the binocs interfered with the signal from his gear. Reepyr gripped the device tightly.

Parm grabbed his head and screamed in a dry voice. "Look!" Marianis cried as Cyrano weakened visibly and started to lower his body to the ground. "It's working!" Kitt watched intently in abounding hope. She heard Spynn move.

Spynn had stood and was looking in Lance's direction. Frachsun had stopped and was breathing heavily. Marianis stood as well and Spynn and she started to head to Lance. Kitt prepared to follow.

Parm howled with rage and glared at them all. "Desist!" He yelled, spooking them all. "Where are you going?" He yelled to Spynn and Marianis and pointed to them as the wraith effect weakened Cyrano and him. Parm reached down to his saddle and grabbed something. His body blocked what it was. Kitt's heart raced as he finally brought it into full view.

Parm pointed the flash stick at them, setting it off. As Kitt covered her eyes, she dimly heard Reepyr grunt. Then she heard a dull thunk, as if something had fallen to the sandy ground below.

"Reepyr, did you drop…." Kitt left the sentence unfinished as she heard Spynn utter an ear splitting scream.

----------

Word stood silently as Moordryd dismounted and approached cautiously. A slight breeze ruffled his robes. Vertigo did not touch him as he stood as straight as a statue on a narrow walkway nearly a mile above the moving gears of Work Town. Up here, there was no escape route for Moordryd. Word would be able to confront his son in peace, and Moordryd could only leave if Word allowed it. His raptor eyes never left his son.

Moordryd paused as he rubbed Decepshun's nose, whispered softly and glared at his father once in a while. Then, with smooth strides, he continued on toward his father. Word took a wraith remote he held in his right hand, and made them move aside for Decepshun to pass through. Word motioned with his hand for her to leave. With his intent clear, Decepshun took one last look at Moordryd, and then bounded off, to where Word had no idea.

Moordryd stopped and watched his dragon leave. The wraiths filled in the gap they had created for Decepshun and snarled at Moordryd. Moordryd turned and walked towards his father.

Word kept his small amount of surprise within him as Moordryd came closer. His eyes were full of unwavering determination. Word sighed. What was going through his son's head?

Moordryd stopped at a good distance from his father and stood with crossed arms. Word was the first to speak. "Moordryd."

Moordryd grimaced slightly. "Father."

"Moordryd, I must know," Word said as he waved around his clawed hand, "why do you not…agree with my plan? You've supported me countless times before, I gave you fair warning about what I was intending to do…."

"Fair warning? You call a few minutes a fair warning? I still don't know if all my crew members are safe. Most of the communications are down."

"You," Word pointed a claw at his son who sneered in response, "should have had a better communication system with your crew. Perhaps freeing Swayy wouldn't have been so arduous."

"You…you saw?"

"Of course. I was watching you. The whole time." Word looked at his son who seemed rather nervous.

"The whole time?" Moordrdy questioned and let his arms drop to his sides, which, in Word's opinion, was a sign of unease. Which Moordryd should be.

"Yes, everything," Word said in a silky voice. "Which brings me to my next question. Why did you feel a sudden need to help Kitt Wonn?"

Moordryd unconsciously stiffened and Word's penetrating gaze noticed. He smiled faintly. "She…I…," Moordryd stuttered, trying to think of a good explanation or excuse. Then Moordryd saw Word's bemused smile. Kicking himself mentally for almost reverting back to his old ways of his endless attempts to please his father, Moordryd squared his shoulders and looked Word directly in the eyes once again. "I helped her because now you have one less wraith to control."

"Trying to destroy my army now, are you?" Word nearly chuckled. Moordryd fumed. Word stopped his chortling and took a threatening step towards his son, decreasing the distance Moordryd had put between them. Moordryd balled his hands into fists. "And here I thought you supported my plans. You've never shown any abhorrence to the wraiths before. Why the sudden change of mind?"

"Because, they weren't in control of the city before."

"This bothers you? You didn't seem so against my plans before, when I had human wraiths from Slithercorp and tried to gain control of the city with them."

"They didn't actually take over the city," Moordryd scoffed.

"Don't remind me," Word sighed and rubbed his forehead.

Moordryd, feeling he was on a roll, continued without hesitation, "I've never really thought about how much my life would change if you controlled the city with your wraiths. Everything I've worked for is gone. I've worked my scales off for my crew and to get into the academy. Now it's…it's just gone."

"Moordryd, Moordryd," Word said in an understanding and mocking tone, "what else did you expect?"

"I don't know…."

"Exactly," Word spat, "did you know what you were doing when you stole dragons for me all these years? Did you know what you were doing as you lured the Dragon Booster into his tomb?"

Moordryd flinched inwardly at the last attack. He wished his father hadn't referred to the Shadow Track as the Dragon Booster's tomb. "I…."

Word interrupted him quickly, "and do you know what you're doing now?" Moordryd narrowed his eyes as his father fixated his own grey eyes upon him. "Moordryd," he said as he stood tall against the dwindling hope of Dragon City, "will you fight against me and my wraiths? Are you going to side yourself with the rest of the citizens of Dragon City, fighting for a hopeless cause such as freedom? Or, rather, will you stay by my side as I control the future?"

Moordryd replied grimly, "I neither side with you, or Dragon City. I have my own plans."

"I was afraid you might say that," Word sighed, "I suppose your 'plans,' include eradicating my new army and my newly gained power?" Moordryd watched him carefully as he slowly nodded. Word barked a short laugh. "Who will help you? Your crew?"

"Not just them," Moordryd said. To Moordryd, Word didn't appear at all fazed or worried by his retort.

"Who else?" Word sneered at him. "Armeggeddon?"

Moordryd was caught off guard and stood blinking stupidly. "How do you know?" He finally blurted out.

"How could I not? Dealing with Armeggeddon is dangerous and extremely risky," Word said with all the authority of a parent, and Moordryd glowered back with all the authority of a rebellious son. "He will use you and drag you into his plans, and pay you no more heed than a speck of sand."

"I'll take that risk. And besides, how much more different would that be from what you do?"

"Moordryd, do not be a fool. If that is your stance, then you know what fate awaits you. You know what I do to my enemies."

"You'd treat me, your own son, just the same as…as a stable brat?"

"Yes."

"But…."

"If you are no use to me and against me, why do you deserve better? Because we are related?" Moordryd's outward determination and opposition began to fade away. His glare softened as his father's intensified. "Why should I waste time and resources on you?" Word continued, "why have I ever wasted them on you? You are just an embarrassment to the name of Paynn. When have you ever been otherwise?"

Moordryd was unable to come up with a suitable answer. Sure, he'd accomplished many things, but what had actually made his father proud to have him as his son? The only times Moordryd could recall had been destroyed as he had failed or messed up whatever he had been able to achieve.

"Moordryd, you no longer have amnesty from my wraiths." Word focused his eyes past Moordryd. Moordryd looked behind himself to the wraiths that still stood there, blocking the way off the footpath. Realizing he may not get off this walkway in one piece, he turned back to his father, who was watching him. "You have made the wrong choice…incompetent fool. No one stands in my way."

Moordryd gathered up his remaining determination. "Armeggeddon will help. You touch me, and you suffer his wrath."

Word's expression didn't change, but it was a complete relief to Moordryd when he didn't laugh in his face. Perhaps his father was afraid of Armeggeddon. Who could stand against him?

Word reached and replaced his wraith controller with an odd remote from his robes. Broader than the wraith remote, Word took it in two hands and waited. Moordryd reheated his softening gaze and glared at his father. Would he really…. Yes he would, he would give his son over to the wraiths. Moordryd forced down the feeling of depression and worthlessness, and looked at what his father held.

He was too curious to suppress the question his father waited for. "What is that?"

Word grinned evilly. "Watch." With his left thumb, he pressed a button and with his right hand, he flipped three switches. When nothing immediately happened, Moordryd looked around.

"What did that do?"

"Wait and see. It takes a while to shut down the city."

And as Moordryd followed his father's gaze at the city, Moordryd gasped. From their high location, Moordryd had a wonderful view of the events.

The streetlights, advertisements and every single bulb slowly dimmed and went out. Far off in the distance, the approaching darkness came at them like a plague. His father was shutting down the city, rendering all inhabitants blind. He was turning off the power.

The once magnificent scene of Dragon City, with all the homely lights and lit streets, was now gone. Soon the darkness washed over them. As all sight vanished, the screams came. From all around Moordryd wafted the sudden, terrified shrieks. Moordryd blinked his eyes and peered ahead, not able to see his father standing nearly five feet from him.

Moordryd looked up, and thought he saw the dark shades of grey light. Unfortunately, he was in the lower levels of Mid City, where the sunbeams never touched. Perhaps in the upper levels of Mid City, people would be able to see the light. But he was sure the darkness was suffocating everyone in the lower levels.

"Father?"

"Still here."

"Why did you turn off all the lights? How can you see anything?"

"Use your night vision on your helmet, if you cannot figure that out yourself."

Moordryd touched his helmet, as if realizing for the first time that he still wore it. Activating the night vision, his father appeared before him in a green-hued world. "How does tur…."

"Can you see without your helmet?"

"No."

"Can dragons see at all?"

"No."

"Then the Prophets are at a disadvantage. My wraiths, as a default, have night vision. The Prophets are no longer a pest if they cannot see. Everyone, human and dragon alike, will be easier to capture." Word surveyed the awesome aerial view through the eyes of a triumphant conqueror. Moordryd turned off his night vision. Though the darkness pressed all around him, bright spots of purple hurt Moordryd's eyes each time they appeared. For far in the distance, those were the mag-streams of the wraiths as they captured and attacked humans and Prophets, each one signaled the growing power of his father and the weakening of the city.

Moordryd closed his eyes so he would not have to see them, though his ears filled with the sound of the screams. War was brutal, and Moordryd didn't want is life to change this drastically. It had been a while since he had contacted Cain. As more screams echoed throughout the wasting city, Moordryd wondered how safe his crew really was. His father would undoubtedly invade Down City, and with his crew members dragon's all blind, how could they easily escape? Not counting the crew members who either did not have night vision on their helmets or weren't wearing them at the time.

Word turned from his scanning the city to look at his son, who's eyes were downcast and night vision obviously turned off. He frowned and looked past him to the waiting wraiths. Perhaps, after being controlled by one of them for a while, Word would let him go and see if his priorities had changed.

As Moordryd stood there, his mind filled with the perhaps imminent images of his crew's downfall. If he had no more amnesty toward the wraiths…surely his crew was in as much trouble as any other out there. Moordryd clenched his teeth. Was he giving up? No. He reached up with his left hand and activated his night vision again, his face full of resolve as he raised his head and saw his father watching the wraiths beyond him. He had come to accomplish something, and he would see it done.

His father smirked almost sadly, for what reason Moordryd could not fathom. His father's plans were well under way, victory seemed to be within his grasp and his meddlesome son would be soon dealt with. Moordryd tried to control his mounting anger as he glared at his father. He clenched his right fist and held it against his side. When he opened it again, it was full of black mag energy.

Word barely had time to gasp with surprise as his gaze was torn from the wraiths and focused on Moordryd. Moordryd shot the mag-push towards his father, hitting him square in the chest. Word flew backwards, dropping his large remote he had used to shut off the city's power. He landed twenty feet away and rolled to a stop in the middle of the pathway. Moordryd wasn't quite sure whether he was glad his father hadn't plummeted to his death below or if he was relieved that he hadn't.

Word groaned with irritation and rage as he lifted his head and stared in shock back at his son. Moordryd reached into his jacket and retrieved his mag-staff, feeling rather venerable without his energy drain whip. If only he hadn't left that behind! Now that would've been extremely useful. He could've drained his father's energy and render him helpless without really hurting him.

Moordryd took swift steps toward his father, extending his mag-staff as he walked. On this narrow pathway, he was temporarily safe from the wraith dragons, but he was also trapped unless he defeated his father.

Word quickly rose to his feet, and sneered at his son. "What do you think you are doing?"

"Stopping you," Moordryd replied without emotion.

"Do you honestly think you can beat me?" Word snarled and walked toward his son. Moordryd glared and never hesitated as he continued walking onward, holding his mag-staff in a tight grip. And as his father glared at him with such intensity, Moordryd hoped the growing sweat from his palms wouldn't cause his staff to slip from his grasp. He was up against his father, and any hindrance in the fight could be the end of him.

----------

Tyrannis Pax roared suddenly, not with fear or outrage, but with minute surprise. Mortis stared hard down the street ahead of him. "What? Word!" He snarled, for it could have been done by no other. Ahead, down the length of the street, the power of Dragon City turned off. It came towards them swiftly, one bulb darkening after the next. Soon the dark washed over them and raced off behind them. Connor turned and stared hard till the remaining lights in the far distance had gone off.

Tyrannis stood silently and listened hard for anything that might be creeping around unseen in the darkness. Connor felt unperturbed. His Dragon Priest helmet allowed him to see in the dark, and Connor gazed about. Looking ahead, he could see the distant sign of the drag-café. He urged Tyrannis slightly, and Tyrannis forged ahead through the darkness, placing absolute trust in his rider.

Soon, the heavy sign hung mere feet from Connor. Tyrannis Pax waited patiently as Connor swiftly signaled him to stop. Connor sat there, eighty feet in the air, parallel to the huge sign. It lay darkened like the rest of the city.

There was no sign of Word, but Connor knew he had been in this exact spot not long ago. Tyrannis suddenly rumbled deeply, alerting Connor that he had smelled and heard something below. Seeing a hunched form of a dismal human, blinking fitfully in the pitch darkness, Connor tapped Tyrannis softly on the head. "Down, Tyrannis," he said, and Tyrannis lowered his head, neither of them wanting to risk magging Connor down. The sudden bright glow of the energy would surely alert attention, and perhaps cause the human to run away in fear from the sudden appearance of an eighty-foot dragon.

Connor dismounted and dropped quietly to the ground as soon as Tyrannis' head was close enough to let him off without a sound. Connor gripped his staff tightly in his right hand and walked softly towards the human. He wondered why the human hadn't fled when Tyrannis first came. Indeed, the human should have heard Tyrannis' heavy footfalls.

But as Connor came closer and was able to see the man correctly, he found his answer. The man was glaring in the darkness, glaring towards his unseen foe. It was either foolish bravery or utter stupidity that the man did not run.

Connor stopped about fifteen feet from the huddled man. "Hello?" He called softly. The man jerked awkwardly and pressed himself against the wall he was leaning against. When he didn't answer, Connor said again, "I assure you no harm, and neither does my dragon."

The man peered in the direction he had heard Connor's voice. "Who are you?"

"Connor Penn," he said, for if this man had heard of him, he may possibly relax and make it easier for Connor to question him.

"The dragon breeder?"

"Yes. What is your name?"

"My name is not important, Connor Penn." He almost snarled. He slowly rose to his feet and held a hand to the wall beside him for support, more sure of himself now that he knew the supposed threat was not one at all. "How did you see me?"

"Most helmets have night vision," Connor answered, wondering why the man refused to give him his name. For what reason would he be worried if Connor knew his name? The man nodded, but before he could speak again, Connor continued, "how long have you been sitting there?"

"For a while. I'm not quite sure whether I should even try to find my way around or not."

"Have you seen a large dragon near here?"

"Why?"

"Because I am looking for someone whom I know was here not too long ago."

"Well, can you get me out of here safely?"

"What?"

"I may be persuaded to answer you truthfully if you could provide a helmet or a way to the Down City, perhaps." The man rubbed his chin, and Connor saw many scars scrawled across his brawny arm. He felt like strangling this man. This was not a time for bargaining!

"I cannot bring you safely to Down City," Connor grimaced, his dislike of the rugged man increasing. "And I don't have another helmet."

"Then I suppose I cannot help you. It would do me no good."

"Wait here then, if you have no intention of freely answering a simple question," Connor huffed and turned.

"Where are you going?" The man asked, growing worried. "You're not leaving, are you?"

Connor ignored him and walked briskly away. Tyrannis listened to his footsteps and was able to put a general direction on where he was going. Connor walked to a building which was situated quite closely to the drag-café headquarters. He pulled open the door. Inside were many types of gears and various objects arranged neatly on shelves. Connor wasted no time in heading to a certain room. What had attracted him to this building, was the fact that this was the main stables for the drag-café headquarters, where most workers here put their dragons while they worked in the huge building. Connor smiled faintly as he found what he was looking for. Extra or forgotten helmets. Connor seized one from many, and headed back to the man.

As he heard Connor's approaching footsteps, the man leaned forward intently from where he had sat down. "Tell me if you have seen the dragon, and I will give you this helmet." Connor said as he clutched the precious helmet in his armored hand.

"You found one," the sitting man said almost breathlessly. But then, in a sly tone, said, "then give it here."

"Tell me first."

"How can I be sure you have one?"

"How can I be sure you will tell me once I give it to you? Do I strike you as a dishonest man?" Connor asked.

"From what I've heard of you, not at all. Very well then," the man drawled, "I did see a huge dragon. Clearly a black dragon, it had two huge horns and was surrounded by wraiths. Does that help?"

Connor smiled with victory. "Yes it does."

"Why are you looking for Word Paynn? As I understand, you and he are not on the best of relationships."

Connor shook his head slightly from the sudden feeling of surprise. He ignored the man and walked to Tyrannis Pax. "Tyrannis," he said and Tyrannis lowered his head and Connor mounted him.

The man scrambled to his feet. "What about the helmet?" He asked.

As Tyrannis stood fully once again, Connor looked down at the man. "Tell me the direction he went, and I will throw down the helmet to you."

"Throw it down? What kind of a dragon do you have?" The man stumbled in Tyrannis' vague direction.

"Where did Word Paynn go?" Connor asked with a deep voice of authority.

The man sighed and pointed with his outstretched arm. "That way, away from the drag-café building."

"Thank you for your cooperation," Connor had to force himself not to sneer.

"Don't mention it."

With a perfectly placed throw, Connor tossed the helmet down to the ground as Tyrannis lumbered quickly away, depending on Connor's firm hand for guidance through the dark city. Connor wanted to be out of sight from the man before he was able to get the helmet on and see the retreating Dragon Priest.

As the thundering footsteps faded into the bowels of the city, the man grumbled and walked carefully around, heading to the spot where he had heard the helmet fall. But just what kind of dragon did Connor Penn have? He kicked the helmet accidentally with his foot, and he bent down to pick it up. Placing it on his head, luckily it wasn't a bad fit, he activated the night vision.

Malto glanced to where Connor Penn had run off to. Then he turned and started the long trek down to Down City. Perhaps he would find a way to free his dragon from the clutches of the wraith gear. He smirked in the pressing darkness. He would do more than that.

---------

The Prophets immediately froze as the darkness enveloped them. Tryaust waited in the sudden silence, feeling the slight wariness and unease from Jyme affect him as well. Distant and not too distant screams rose around them in a growing throng.

"What now?" One orange dragon standing beside Tryaust asked. Tryaust recognized the voice to be Eskhyrr's rider's voice. Sycundys hissed and whirled around from her position at the front and with threatening strides quickly advanced upon the dragon. The orange dragon backed up a few steps.

Sycundys shoved her way past Tryaust and stopped, staring at the darkness. She swung her head around, trying to locate the dragon. "I will tell you when I wish you to know," she finally said after nearly a minute of overpowering silence from the other Prophets. Eskhyrr wisely kept quiet, not wanting to give his location away.

"But shouldn't we know now?" Came another voice to the right. Tryaust could easily hear Sycundys' rapid intake of breath in her growing annoyance. "For all we know, we could be surrounded by wraiths."

"But how could the wraiths see in the darkness?" Another questioned, close to the second.

"What if the humans can see?" Came yet another from the back of the pack. Tryaust could very nearly feel the rising doubt and panic in the Prophets. This was undoubtedly the Controller's work, and any Prophet would think so until proven otherwise. And the Controller must have a plan, shutting them all in the dark like this. Tryaust shifted. A plan which they could not see.

"If the humans can see, then we will deal with them." Sycundys said with irritation and growled softly. The Prophets quieted. Tryaust heard Sycundys' voice come through the dark again. "Propheci will meet us here soon. Then we will…"

"Hide? Run?" Eskhyrr demanded, growing more confident by the other Prophet's objections. Tryaust was sure Sycundys smiled then, now that she had a pinpoint on Eskhyrr's location. He heard her softly saunter over to him in a wraith-like manner. Eskhyrr faltered, and grew quiet as Sycundys stopped near to him.

She growled lowly. "Your insolence is both tiresome and…."

"Arguing amongst ourselves, are we?" The horribly familiar voice drifted towards the group, cutting Sycundys off. "Has the value of leadership declined so much, Sycundys?" The hiss of a cunning voice slithered towards them through the dark. Every dragon froze as they heard dragon steps approach. Tryaust blinked ineffectively in the dark, unable to discern even a phantom of a shape. But there was no doubt in anyone's minds, dragon or human, of who drew near the group. Propheci.

As Word gazed at the wraiths in thought and half opened his mouth to pronounce Moordryd's fate and force him to the wraiths, something large moving surreptitiously behind them caught his eye. The wraiths looked behind themselves and growled. Suddenly, before Word was able to get a clear picture, a gold mag-push instantly struck the walkway behind Moordryd, sending the whole thing into a violent shake. Word had readied himself quickly and dropped to his knees.

As the walkway once again steadied and Word was able to see a still, unwavering world, he looked to where his wraiths had been last. They were gone, and in their place stood a huge bipedal dragon. Word sneered agitatedly at the rider atop it. Mortis.

Word got to his feet, and glared at one of his arch rivals. But as Word stared him down, he realized Moordryd was not on the walkway. "Moordryd," he hissed quietly and glanced around as much as he dared without taking his eyes off of Mortis.

"Help me up," Moordryd's voice came from the edge. Word looked to his left and peered over the edge. Moordryd had not noticed the coming mag attack, and so had not been prepared for the sudden movement in the walkway. And with his night vision off, he had been blind and fallen over the edge. It was sheer luck that he had caught the edge with his right hand.

Moordryd turned his night vision on again with his left hand as he dangled a mile above Work Town. "Father, I can't…." Moordryd grunted and swung up his left hand and grabbed the edge with it.

Word made a small move to instinctively help his son, but reconsidered, withdrawing his barely extended hand. Bending down to help him would put him in a venerable position to any sudden attacks Mortis may throw. This was now a war, and Word would expect anything to happen. Dragon Priests were manipulative, and from Word's experiences, were not exempt from devious moves.

Moordryd heaved himself halfway onto the platform, and Word, deeming his son to be free from the danger of falling, focused his full attention on the menace before him.

"Word," Mortis barely moved as he addressed him in a clear voice.

"Mortis," Word cut in and stared defiantly up at his nemesis, "if you have come to fight or to talk sense, as you call it, into my head, then you are wasting your time." Mortis studied him silently as Tyrannis Pax blinked futilely in the darkness.

"I shall never be wasting my time if it is spent in trying to help people, or in this case, the entire city," Mortis said, leaning forward slightly as he spoke. "I won't stand aside and let you control the city and enslave innocent humans and dragons."

"I do not expect you to," Word stated.

"I hope this can be resolved without violence," Mortis said, but as Word nearly rolled his eyes Mortis said again, "but I can see that I have the upper hand here. Where is your dragon?"

Word smirked at him. "Not far off, I may assure you of that."

Connor breathed deeply and prepared himself for what he was about to say. Word waited almost expectantly. "Word Paynn, you have never been one to easily change your mind, even if reason is involved. I cannot say how many lives will be saved if I…if I kill you now."

Word's expression did not change. He studied Mortis as best he could through his night vision. Moordryd finally clamored onto the walkway and stood slowly, realizing that he could be in the middle of a soon to be horrific fight.

Mortis glanced quickly around, perhaps for some sneaking wraiths or the frightening Abandonn. Even as he did so, he was surrounded by the golden glow of his dragon's mag energy. Mortis turned his expressionless mask to them and threw a mag-push onto the walkway.

Word had expected this from Mortis, and still slightly surprised that his wraiths hadn't returned yet, had run on the path towards Mortis, readying himself by filling with Abandonn's black mag energy. He couldn't have Mortis destroy the path and send them falling to their doom. The mag-push Mortis had fired blew up right before him, sending him reeling back.

The entire walkway shuddered from the force, and if Word had not been near the center, he would have surely been thrown off. A section of the path before him was gone, the ends smoking slightly. Word sneered at Mortis from his place on the path, then grinned spitefully as he heard the return of his wraiths and the arrival of new ones.

Soon they appeared in Word's night vision, snapping at Tyrannis' flanks and feet. Tyrannis roared and swiped blindly with his arms.

"Give it up Mortis, and leave. More are coming." Word called.

Mortis would have thrown another mag-push, a deadly accurate one to destroy Word once and for all, but the scream of a wraith, one with extra control gear, only allowed room for one last glare at Word before Tyrannis turned and fled through the shadows. No words passed between them, yet the intent was clear. Mortis would finish him off later. Word grabbed the wraith remote from his robes and commanded them to stay. He wanted to enjoy Mortis' death. He wanted to be close and purposeful in his demise, and he could not be from his present position.

The thundering of Tyrannis' retreating steps soon faded away. Word cackled. He was still here. But someone else, he was soon to note, was not.

"Moordryd?" Word questioned the darkness. He quickly made a full sweep of the walkway with his eyes. Save for him, it was empty. Word staggered to the edges and looked at them. Unlike before, Moordryd was not grasping at them with his hands. "Where are you?" He hissed.

Then he looked down to Work Town, a mile away. The noise of the revolving gears sounded like a somber death chant. Could Moordryd have really fallen…. Word flinched outwardly as one gear suddenly slowed with the effort of trying to continue in its endless cycle as something was caught between the gears within it. Even from his high vantage point, Word soon heard the sound of it break. Whatever it had been, it sounded like breaking wood, possibly plastic…or even human bones.

Word abruptly felt vertigo wash over him as he stared down from the immense height. He dropped to his knees with a lightheaded head, placing a shaking hand to comfort it. It couldn't be…not Moordryd.

Word closed is eyes. He hadn't brought Moordryd out here to send him into death's embrace. _I only wanted closure. _Word swallowed deeply as he squeezed his eyes shut. _I never meant to kill him._

The soft moan of the impatient wraiths and the cold groping wind, along with the stricken screams of the city clawed at his heart as he sat hunched in his solitude. He stared down at Work Town. He had just wanted to know Moordryd's position. Word breathed deeply and shakily. _The war has killed my son,_ came the never ending thought. _My actions for another war killed him. _Unasked images of Zulay flooded his mind. She had merely been trying to prove herself to him, but had disappeared because Word was involved with starting another war. Now his son was gone too, because of him. His worst fear had come true. He had been driving Moordryd away, very slowly. Word sighed in the darkness. Even sentencing him to a wraith wouldn't have done any good, he reflected.

Word fought back rising emotions, telling himself that such things were for the weak. His throat nonetheless tightened as he listened to the sounds of a dying city and realized how alone he really was. Just him and the war which had cost him so much.


	11. The Conclusion of the Siege

Next chapter up already:)

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dragon Booster...

* * *

_The Conclusion of the Siege_

Kitt covered her eyes with her hand as the vivid light from the flash stick seared though her brain. _Spynn! _Was she okay? Her scream still reverberated off the close mounds of misshapen rubble.

Suddenly, the light vanished and Kitt was able to open her eyes. Her hurried gaze quickly darted around for Spynn as she blinked the spots out of her eyes.

"Spynn, duck!" Marianis yelled. Then Kitt noticed Spynn.

Parm had, after setting off the flash stick, advanced upon Spynn and Marianis. Spynn had been magged back by Cyrano, and was looking at him in fear as she managed to stand from where she had fallen against a huge twisted pile of metal. She held her right shoulder in obvious pain and ducked. Cyrano's mag stream attacked the place where her head had been. As she hit the ground in a small cloud of dust, she rolled away from the falling wreckage. Cyrano swung his head around and roared at her as Parmon yelled in vexation, shaking slightly with mounting rage.

Kitt then saw Marianis, a few feet off to her right. Marianis had managed to throw herself out of the way as Cyrano had tackled Spynn. "Reepyr, where's that scaling interference signal? Now could be a good time," Spynn called out to him, her face etched with worry. Cyrano flashed his teeth at her and prepared for another mag-push.

Kitt turned to Reepyr, who had the binocs firmly in hand. He pointed them at the massive dragon in front of himself, the interference signal taking effect almost immediately. Cyrano roared and his mag-push misfired, striking the ground harmlessly. "Spynn," Kitt called over Cyrano's convulsing body. His body blocked her view of Spynn, but she heard an answer from her, indistinguishable over the dragon's bellows. "Spynn, make sure Lance is alright."

She heard more groans from Cyrano before a barely audible, 'alright.' "It's working again," Marianis breathed as Cyrano collapsed to the ground in a heap.

"Watch Parm!" Reepyr shouted suddenly. Kitt noticed a movement from atop Cyrano. Parm glanced back at them and smirked, his white teeth a significant clashing colour to his otherwise darkened shades. Once again, he lifted the flash stick for another attempt.

Before Kitt could move, Marianis flung herself at Parm. Caught off guard, Parmon paused momentarily, allowing Marianis to grab the saddle with one hand and hoist herself up. With her other, she grabbed the flash stick and jerked it back. Parm recovered and maintained his strong grip on the stick, yanking it back towards himself . He sneered at her.

Kitt moved forward to help as Cyrano weakened visibly. "Foolish," Parm hissed softly, caressing the word. Then he lifted the flash stick, dangling Marianis from it.

"Kitt," Marianis grunted as Parm breathed on her, inches away. Kitt was already at Cyrano's side and looked up at Parmon, who turned to her and glared back. "He's…he's really strong…." Marianis said as she managed to grab the stick with her other hand. Parm shook it, trying to dislodge her grip. As he began to shake it more violently, Kitt had clamored on Cyrano and grabbed Parm's wrists. Reepyr's sudden voice registered in her frenzied mind. "What?"

"I said, the binocs only weaken Cyrano, they won't actually stop him from being a wraith. And apparently they don't weaken Parmon. Marianis can hold on, try to find a way to get the gear off Cyrano. Where's Spynn?" Reepyr spoke the last in shaking annoyance. Where was she while they were trying to free Parm?

Marianis nodded to Kitt, "I'll hold on and make sure he doesn't use it," she said, referring to the flash stick. Parm jiggled it, but Marianis clenched her teeth and held on. "Get the gear off." Kitt jumped to the ground beside Cyrano's massive bulk.

"Spynn," she called, "come here." Kitt walked around Cyrano and at once came face-to-snoot with Frachsun. "Lance!"

"Lance has an idea," Spynn said, resting a hand on Frachsun.

"Frachsun can mag it off." Kitt gazed into his eyes, full of worry and…could it be? Determination. Frachsun puffed out his chest and chattered.

Kitt nodded. "You okay?"

"I'm not scared. Anymore." Lance said as if to quell any doubts she may have about him.

"Do it, now." Spynn said. Frachsun turned to Cyrano.

Marianis was still hanging on, just barely. Parmon fixated his red, glaring eyes upon her. "Inconsiderable whelp," he jeered. "You cannot defeat me!" He laughed and heaved the flash stick and threw Marianis over his shoulder. She landed a surprisingly far distance away, close to hitting a sharp, jutting protrusion from the rubble, scarcely avoiding a grievous wound.

"Now!" Lance yelled, quashing Parm's mad laughter. Parm quickly looked in surprise. Frachsun concentrated his mag-stream onto Cyrano's left thruster gear, and, with Cyrano weakened by the binocs signal and unable to keep the gear magged on, it came off.

"What?" Parm cried as the gear thudded heavily to the ground.

"The other side," Spynn shouted and ran to Marianis, "take the other off!" Lance grabbed the handles and maneuvered Frachsun closer to Cyrano, but unfortunately, in such a small passage, surrounded by rubble on both sides, Frachsun could not get past without passing right by Cyrano. Parm stood up on the saddle, holding the flash stick like a mighty scepter.

Spynn looked up sharply as she knelt by Marianis. "Watch out for the flash stick!" Marianis shouted, pointing to the danger.

Parm looked at the stick in his hand, then at Lance. "Now we shall see who will have the last laugh…hey!" Kitt heaved a large rock, knocking the stick from his unsuspecting hand. It fell to the ground behind him near Reepyr. Kitt's next rock, as she silently apologized to Parm, hit him in the stomach. He lashed out with is hand as he fell from the saddle, grabbing it at the last instant, still in contact with Cyrano and still in contact with the wraith signal.

He kicked his legs and hoisted himself back onto it. The sudden wind of a blurred object rushed by him. Parm could only watch as Fracshun passed Cyrano and stood with the dragon's right thruster gear in full view.

"No!" Parm yelled as Fracshun's bright, blue mag stream ripped the thruster gear from Cyrano's flank. Cyrano lifted his head and roared weakly as he began to flash from his wraith colours to his original colours. Everyone covered their eyes as one last bright flash of light filled the air.

When Kitt put down her hand from shielding her eyes, she gasped and ran forward. "Parmon!"

Cyrano collapsed on the ground, exhausted. Parm was lying on the ground beside him, slowly lifting his tired body into a sitting position. "Wh…what? Ouf!" He groaned as Kitt swept him up in a big hug. "Well, ugh…let go, you're squeezing too hard." He managed to squeak out.

"Sorry," Kitt said and released him. Parm put a hand to his head and looked around, slightly confused.

"What…did I…ouf!" Lance had jumped off of Frachsun and had swept Parm up in the biggest hug he could give.

"You're not trying to kill me anymore!" He said happily, which would otherwise be a rather odd statement for him to say to Parm.

"Well…what? I would never try to…." Parm started, then shook his head slightly and looked at Cyrano. "Was I…were we…wraiths?" Kitt nodded sullenly, but the smile on her face betrayed her true feelings at the moment and the graveness of the situation. "Magna Draconis, the gear! Word must've implemented copious amounts of his….Reepyr?" Parm said, surprised as he noticed the pale man.

"I believe these are yours," he said, as he walked towards them with a slight swagger and handed Parm his binocs. Parm slowly looked from Reepyrs's face to the binocs he held out to him.

"My binocs! But…you used the wraith interference signal, didn't you?" Parm said gleefully and took the binocs, piecing together the fragmented memories he had from the past few hours. Kitt had never felt so relieved, Parm appeared to be alright, and Cyrano too. Cyrano shook his head and blinked his eyes, almost fully recovered and at full strength.

Parm looked up as two other figures approached, and was surprised once again. "Marianis, Spynn?" He looked at them in slight worry. Kitt could understand. Spynn grimaced slightly and crossed her arms.

"If Parmon feels ready to move on, we should." Reepyr said, his comment slicing into the good mood that had been created, changing their disposition into a drooping silence. Unwarranted images flooded Kitt's mind, images of the chaos and downfall of Dragon City. And of Wyldfyr, his normally stoic self turned into a depraved warrior. She nodded grimly, as did Spynn and Marianis.

"What? Where are you going now?" Lance asked.

"Artha," Parm interjected before anyone could speak. Kitt bit her lower lip. "He…," Parm continued eagerly, in his usual apprehensive tone. Then he caught himself and snapped his mouth shut.

"What about him?" Spynn asked.

Marianis looked to Kitt, worriment filling her eyes. Then she narrowed her eyebrows and spoke in suspicion. "Where is he even? You haven't spoken of him at all."

"Well, uh, that's because…." Kitt said, slightly flustered and unprepared for the question.

Reepyr jumped in. "Well she wouldn't have need to worry about him unless she knew he was already alright."

"Yes, yes Artha…called me earlier." Kitt turned to Parm and Lance. "Artha called me earlier, he's uh, with Connor." Parm and Lance wisely kept their mouths shut and did their best to looked relieved. Spynn shrugged, not really in the mood to care whether Penn was one of the many wraiths or one of the few free left. Marianis nodded slowly, and Kitt feared the explanation didn't suppress whatever doubts she had or what she had been thinking. Kitt barely caught Marianis glance quickly to Spynn before she nodded her head more vigorously.

Parm stood up, and looked at the others. "The Dragon Booster, he's still stuck in the Shadow Track…isn't he?"

Reepyr nodded grimly. "What exactly happened to Parm?" Lance asked. He only remembered the sudden and rapid transformation of Parm and then quickly running from him.

"The thruster gear Cyrano had on must have turned us into a wraith. But no one tampered with our gear, how would…unless…no." Parm mused.

"You're right so far. Keep going Parmon, you're on a roll." Spynn said.

"Well, I was going to say it must have been in there from the beginning, when we first purchased it. But who would sell corrupt gear like that?"

"Who made your gear?"

"Uh…I believe it's from Paynn Inc…oh." Parm said, instantly connecting the pieces, "he must have been trying to stop me from helping the Dragon Booster."

Kitt sighed. "It wasn't just you."

"What do you mean?"

Everyone grew silent as Kitt looked at the ground. "Every single gear Word has made does that same exact thing. Every dragon who had Word's gear on are wraiths. His wraiths even carry gear with them, so the dragons that weren't affected could be captured by him as well. When we left, the city was in chaos, the Prophets were fighting the wraiths and…and…"

"They need the scaling Dragon Booster!" Spynn said angrily and threw her hands up in the air. Lance cringed slightly and Parm stared at them in horror.

"What…he…really?" Parm stuttered. "Well, then let's go to the Shadow Track." Cyrano stood up then, and stretched before magging Parm on. Lance clamored atop Fracshun. "Where's Wyldfyr?" Parm asked Kitt.

"He's uh…."

"A wraith stupid." Spynn murmured, crossed her arms and stalked off. Kitt sighed. Reepyr cracked his knuckles, and glared after her. Kitt shook her head at him; Reepyr looked faintly crestfallen.

Marianis noticed Lance's worried look. "Don't worry. As soon as we free the Dragon Booster, he can…he can stop all this." Lance appeared slightly reassured, sitting up straighter on the now rested Frachsun.

"We'll make better time if you ride the dragon with us," Parm said as he held out a hand for Kitt. She grabbed it and sat behind Parm's saddle on Cyrano, and moved forward to give Spynn more room behind her. Reepyr hesitated, then scrambled up and took a seat behind her. Kitt tried to keep a growing grin to herself, careful not to let either Reepyr or Spynn see it. Was Reepyr attracted to Spynn? Kitt was almost sure of it. She glanced at Marianis, who grinned as well. She stopped instantly as Reepyr shot a venomous look at her.

Marianis walked away, but as her back was turned, Kitt heard her clamp a hand over her mouth, barely stifling a chuckle. Reepyr sighed heavily, receiving an elbow in the stomach from Spynn for making noise. "Stop moving, you twit." Kitt smirked and looked ahead as Cyrano turned himself and lumbered back down the passage. Marianis sprang blithely onto Frachsun's back, and he trotted to keep pace with Cyrano, chattering to him occasionally in dragon speak.

Spynn reached down and rubbed her feet. "So…how much further?"

Parm glanced down at his newly returned binocs and nearly patted them with affection. He then glanced at his mini-computer. "I'd say we're not too far from the Shadow Track. It seems as though Lance just ran around in a circle, which is good." Lance smiled sheepishly at them. "At a good, steady pace we should be there in less than perhaps, seven minutes." Parm estimated.

"And when we get there…?"

"Well," Parm continued, "I suppose we can use Cyrano's mag energy to help remove the rubble from the entrance. Oh, if only we had an earth-class dragon with us!"

Everyone seeped into a bitter mood, heightened by the chilly blasts of wind which was now blowing through the Old City. Is was only eight minutes later when they stopped near the clearing and saw the devastated cliff. Marianis glanced around them, at the growing darkness.

"It's late. The hydrags will start to venture out more." She said, causing everyone to peer into concealed shadows, each expecting to find one. "It's really dark."

"Well, it is practically night." Spynn said and jumped off Cyrano.

"No, I mean, darker than it should be. Even from here, we should be able to see the glow of Dragon City."

Parm frowned. "You're right. But the battles and all the chaos may have something to do with that. Perhaps it temporarily damaged the huge turbines in Shadow Town. But at least we have some light," he said as he pointed to the moons. Drakkus was shining brilliantly above them through windows in the budding clouds, while Abanddonn shimmered closer to the horizon, barely visible through the mounds of rubble.

Reepyr joined Spynn on the ground, and Kitt followed, noticing the eerie light the moons cast upon them all. Marianis soon joined them, and they all gazed at the formidable obstacle before them. Parm once again tried to contact the Dragon Booster, but had no luck. He even failed when he tried to contact Connor. The current state of Dragon City remained unexplained to them. As Kitt walked towards the crumbled cliff and the hidden entrance to the Track, she wondered what the city would be like when they returned with Artha, and whether he could undo multitudes of battles.

"Kitt, wait!" She heard Parm yell. "Stop. It's guarded!"

Kitt immediately halted, and after Parm's insistent pleas, started to walk backwards, keeping an eye on the Track all the while. She gasped as she saw the rising clouds of dust as unseen footprints appeared on the ground. Wraiths.

"Now what? Can Cyrano and Frachsun mag…never mind." Spynn started, but corrected herself as more than one set of footprints appeared, each easing closer to them.

"I think there's…um, about ten wraiths! We can't get thought that!" Parm said.

Lance pulled back on Frachsun's handles. "Let's come back later, with…with Mortis or something." Parm nodded absently.

"Leave?" Marianis nearly demanded of them. "But…we need the Dragon Booster now. Dorsull…."

"Can't be helped if we stay here," Reepyr said with authority. "We need more help. If only the wraiths…." A sudden roar behind them nearly stopped their hearts.

Everyone ripped their gazes from the petrifying and invisible danger before them, to look at the smiling wraith behind them. It screamed again, visible, unlike the others, and charged forward.

It extended it's neck, flashing intimidating fangs, reaching for Spynn, who was standing furthest from the rest and closest to the wraith. And, as this one charged, the others waiting in the shadows near the track ran forward as well, with only the suddenly materializing prints to mark their spot.

"Run, this way!" Parm shouted, pointing back in the direction they had just come from, where the danger was less, but danger nonetheless. He lowered his outstretched hand as the wraith loped closer to Spynn, nearing striking distance.

"Spyyn!" Reepyr shouted as the wraith closed in on her. He took three quick steps and reached her nearly a second before the wraith did. Pushing his weight into her, Spynn was shoved out of the way of the wraith's main attack. Spynn barely missed hitting the wraith's forearm with her head as Reepyr took the blow for her.

The wraith, though it's teeth intended for Spynn, instead sank into Reepyr's upper right arm. The wraith lifted it's head up, tearing flesh. With a cry, Reepyr tumbled to the ground on top of Spynn. Cyrano roared, his dislike of the wraiths increasing. No longer was this wraith a hapless dragon, unable to control itself. It was now a monster. Cyrano, as the wraith charged on by, blood staining it's mouth, swung his head and shoulders, making contact with the other reptile.

His powerful blow knocked the wraith over. Kitt and Marinais had to scramble desperately to get out of the way. Without hesitation, Cyrano immediately fired off a mag-push, propelling the wraith along the ground in a flurry of dirt.

"Go now! Hurry!" Kitt shouted at Spynn. Spynn was carefully lifting a groaning Reepyr off her with incredible slowness, staring at his pained face and flowing blood. But soon Spynn looked up sharply, then to behind Kitt where the other wraiths had not slowed.

Frachsun magged Spynn on his back as Lance and he blew past them, tearing Reepyr from her tightening grasp. Cyrano magged Reepyr to his back, and took off after Kitt and Marianis jumped on. Kitt did her best to keep her balance on the running dragon and keep Reepyr from falling as well.

"We have a problem, other than Reepyr's injury," Parm said, his voice almost lost as the wind whistled past their ears.

"What?" Kitt asked.

"Cyrano can't outrun those wraiths. The thruster gear is gone. I don't know if we…."

"Wait, they stopped." Marianis shouted from behind Kitt. Kitt almost didn't believe her, it seemed too good to be true. But when she turned around, the wraiths had indeed stopped and had become visible. They offered their goodbyes in blood-curling roars, swinging their heads from side to side in the moonlight. All but two turned and raced back to the track, while the remaining watched them flee into the night. Kitt turned back to the front, clutching Reepyr tightly, her throat constricting. The wraiths had been guarding the track. Word had certainly thought his plan through.

Neither of the two dragons slowed until they were some distance away, back to the place where Kitt had first met Lance and Parm, back when he had still been a wraith. They stopped near the jutting boulder, panting heavily.

Spynn vaulted off Frachsun and ran to Cyrano's side, helping Reepyr down so Kitt and she could half carry him to lean against the rock. Kitt withdrew her hand from Reepyr's arm as he groaned in pain from her touch. He twisted his head to get a better look at his wound, noticing the blood's dull gleam in the faint light.

Spynn licked her lips, face etched in worry and spoke in a shaking voice. "That…looks pretty bad."

Reepyr grimaced as the blood flowed down his arm, painting his shirt in a dark red hue. "I…I'll be fine. We just need to get back to the city…or…any people who managed to…escape."

"We should've been more careful," Spynn said and tore off a piece of cloth from her sleeve.

"I was the one who walked right into it without checking." Kitt said as Spynn wrapped the cloth around Reepyr's arm carefully, trying not to hurt him. He put on a brave expression. None of the pain touch his face, for which Kitt was grateful. She could sense Frachshun looking just over her shoulder, and knew that Lance was seeing this all as well.

Parm nearly surprised her as he walked close and crouched beside her. He laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "None of us knew it was guarded."

"But we should've," Spynn muttered. "You told us Moordryd trapped the Dragon Booster in there. Moordryd had ties with the wraiths, I just know it." Kitt's grimace of guilt went unnoticed by the others, save Marianis, who was watching closely. Her calculating eyes turned back to Reepyr.

"We should try to get back as quickly as we can."

Spynn nodded at her comment, and finished wrapping the cloth around Reepyr's arm as a poor, makeshift bandage. "Thanks for the…thing…the bandage," Reepyr said, surprising Kitt with his calm tone.

Spynn nearly blushed. "Well, you saved my life. It's just a sleeve."

"It's the gesture that counts."

Spynn smiled, as nicely as Kitt had ever seen her smile. For a while, they both stared at each other, until Lance had enough. "I'm cold." Kitt had to smile faintly at his attempt to break up the tender and mushy moment.

Spynn started, and glanced to the ground, the moment lost. For a while, anyway. "Here," Marianis said and moved forward, "let's get him onto Cyrano." Spynn and she gripped Reepyr under his arms and helped him to his feet. He swayed slightly as they plodded back to Cyrano.

Kitt stared at the spot they had been sitting and saw a smear of blood against the rock. A feeling of dread seeped into her as she wondered what Dragon City was like. A few seconds passed before Parm spoke. "We'll get Artha out," he whispered and squeezed her shoulder. "Now we know what to expect when we come back." Kitt hadn't realized his hand had still been there. Parm walked back to the others, his heart thudding in his ears at what might have passed between Kitt and him. Kitt smiled faintly at his back. Lance rolled his eyes.

Together, they walked back through the Old City, sometimes trotting when Reepyr told them to, then slowing down to a walk at Spynn's insistence for Reepyr's wellbeing and comfort. After what seemed hours and hours of endless walking through the night, they saw the looming bulk of the darkened Dragon City.

----------

Propheci hissed softly in the pressing darkness, his voice slithering on the faint breeze. "Sycundys," he cooed cunningly. Sycundys straightened unconsciously and looked in the general direction from which the voice had come from. "Tell me, besides the obvious lack of respect for your leadership, what is the problem here?"

Tryaust saw nothing, but heard everything as his other senses were heightened. He heard Sycundys shift her weight form one foot to the next, very much distraught that Propheci seemed to think her value declining. But Tryaust had seen this before. Now Sycundys was more apt than ever to demonstrate her leadership abilities just to please Propheci and their ultimate goal of dragon dominance.

Tryaust noticed that Eskhyrr suddenly fell quiet, and knew that the dragon was not about to give his location away any more. Tryaust heard Sycundys move her feet to face Propheci. Propheci moved forward, followed by more Prophets.

"I see that your faith in my plans is disintegrating. Because of the dark? Does the darkness frighten you?" The other Prophets were quiet, and the silence that soaked the air around them nearly became unbearable until Propheci continued. "The wraiths do have control of the city, and we will withdraw for the time being. Running away? No. There other matters to deal with. Many of the free humans and dragons have begun to retreat into the Old City. We have already convinced and freed a number of dragons in the city, we can do more down there without wraith complications."

The Prophets murmured amongst themselves in agreement. Of course Propheci had a plan, of course they hadn't doubted him. "We head back, stay quiet and stay together." Popheci said, and the orange dragons begun to follow his footsteps as they were the only sound besides the occasional scream far off in the distance. Tryaust felt Sycundys brush by him.

"I was about to tell the others the…" Sycundys started, then stopped as she heard Propheci abruptly stop. The entire group stopped with him.

"Tell them how you will step up in the coming days?" Propheci questioned. Tryaust was sure Sycundys was flushing in embarrassment. "What is coming is war. The Prophets will reign victorious," Propheci spoke as loud as he dared to the rest of the crew. Then he seemed to turn to Sycundys again and spoke softly. "Do not disappoint me."

Then he turned and continued the trek to the Old City. "I won't." Sycundys called after him, though he was not listening. Tryaust felt faintly sorry for her. For the past few weeks, it was beginning to be quite obvious Sycundys had taken an attraction to Propheci. Tryaust had the feeling Propheci himself knew, and was using it to his advantage, as the normally composed Sycundys tried to gain his favor by completing all tasks with vigor and to exceed all expectations on them.

Tryaust also felt jealous, though he didn't like to admit it. Sycundys was an attractive dragon, any Prophet would admit that. Her strict tone was just a cover for her real nature, he was sure. She was…Tryaust grimaced in the darkness as he felt Jyme's amusement.

"What are you waiting for?" Sycundys hissed none too nicely to him. Tryaust started as he realized most of the Prophets had gone on ahead.

"I…I'm going," he said, earning a sniff from Sycundys.

"Slowly."

Tryaust hesitated, wanting to say more. To perhaps tell her everything would be alright, or perhaps that Propheci was just…He dismissed the thought almost immediately as he followed the other Prophets without further comment. She was his superior, and talking to her in such a way was unquestionable. In the current situation, at any rate.

Sycundys waited longer till Eskhyrr passed by her as well, little knowing that two Prophets with objectionable thinking to Propheci's plans had just passed by. One with a belief that humans and dragons were to be made equal, neither one ruling the other. While the other held in his judgment that Propheci himself was not suitable for leading them, and that perhaps betraying the entire crew to a certain figure he had recently met would give him a great reward in return.

Eskhyrr grinned. A great reward.

----------

Moordryd opened his eyes, and stared dumbly at the revolving gears of Work Town which rotated high above his head. He felt the cool ground against his head, and realized he was lying on his back on a grimy floor of a section of Work Town.

He lifted his head a few inches off the draconic pavement, and glanced around, blinking in the bleak darkness as his night vision on his helmet made the world sprang before him in a green tinge. As a light sensation of faintness quickly passed, he sat up and stared above him. He had fallen, he was sure of that. He had been too close to the edge, and when Mortis had thrown a mag-push, he had lost his balance. He mentally kicked himself. But how could he have survived?

A scraping of heavily booted feet caused Moordryd to turn around. He could see nothing behind him, but a smooth voice seemed to float on the chilled darkness. "Do you realize what has happened?"

Moordryd looked every which way, but was unable to discern even the direction from which the voice came. He picked up his amulet, recognizing the voice to be Armeggeddon's. "Uh…I…er…fell?" He spoke to it.

"Correct. Repeat to me the events which took place today, my student."

Moordryd looked around again. The voice had not come from the amulet in his hand. He swallowed. Armeggeddon was near, and in the flesh. "Well, I…trapped the Dragon Booster in the Shadow Track and barricaded the entrance."

"Good…" The voice rumbled.

"I came back and…gave the shadow draconium to my father," Moordryd breathed as he remembered what he had done. He wondered whether that action of his had been a good one.

"I thought as much," Armeggeddon droned. "Perhaps he will find no great use for the draconium."

"What does he want to do with it, exactly?" Moordryd asked, uncertain of where to speak to.

"I doubt he will truly discover the draconium's true potential without any ancient texts to help. But what he may uncover is nothing I can't handle. Than what happened to you?"

Moordryd soon had the feeling that Armeggeddon knew this all already, and was only having him repeat it for Moordryd's own sake. Moordryd forced his thoughts in order, surprised at how jumbled they had become. "My father…I saw what his wraiths were doing on his VIDDscreens, and I noticed Swayy. So then I went and freed her, angering my father, I suppose. Then, well, the wraiths chased me to him, where I…hit him…"

Moordryd trailed off, realizing what he had done. He had hit his father with a mag-push. He instinctively took a sharp, quick intake of breath. He couldn't believe he had done that. What had he been thinking?

"Then you were unprepared when Mortis shook the pathway with his mag-push. I hope you've learned something from that." Armeggeddon ordered the last of him, compelling Moordryd to speak.

"I should've been ready, and kept my balance. But how…"

"Young fool. I saved you." The last part enabled Moordryd to pinpoint the location of his voice. Moordryd spun around, crouching on his heels and gasped when he saw a dark shape standing impressively behind him.

This was the first time Moordryd had seen Armeggeddon, and he certainly looked as deadly as he sounded. His armor was brandished with an intimidating air about it. Armeggeddon's turned his red eyes to Moordryd, inflicting him with an immediate feeling of evil.

"I…" Moordryd gulped, suddenly relieved that he was on Armeggeddon's side.

Armeggeddon then ignored him, and turned his attention up. Moordryd could see the faintly green-tinged glow of black mag energy surround him as he nonchalantly lifted a large, heavy sack, filled with only Drakkus knew what. He lifted it with his mag-pull, and moved it high to one of the gyrating gears, placing it in between the gear's studs. It fell between them, and when the large gear came into contact with another gear as they turned each other, they slowed, hindered by the obstacle. Moordryd heard the sqeal of the engines as they tried to continue, straining against the blockage. Then it broke suddenly, sounding like breaking wood, or as Armeggeddon was hoping for, breaking bones, and fell to the ground in two pieces.

Moordryd looked to Armeggeddon, who simply replied, "now your father thinks you are dead. This is an advantage."

"How…he…"

"Practically killed you himself. He knew forcing you onto that walkway was dangerous. Did he ever make any move to help you when you nearly fell the first time? Do you think he thought of you at all when the second mag-push came? Did he not make your friends wraiths? Did he try to stop you from running around the city? You hit him with a mag-push, what do you think he would have done had Mortis not come?"

Moordryd remained quiet, pondering these things. They were true, in his eyes as he thought about them. Armeggeddon continued. "Now he doesn't have you to deal with. This war will consume all his time, this is what he has been waiting for nearly his whole life. And now he has one less thing to worry about." Armeggeddon chuckled softly. "he doesn't miss you. Even now he is heading back to his wraiths. Hasn't he always said you were worthless? That dragons were more important?"

Moordryd looked down at the ground. His father hadn't exactly said the last part, but at times, that meaning came out all too well. Moordryd's faced scrunched in anger. Amreggeddon was right.

"He thinks you are dead, Moordryd," Armeggeddon said, his voice lifting Moordryd's gaze from the ground to him. "This is our opportune time to follow through with our plans. You can show the world who Moordryd Paynn really is. Not some follower of a imprudent man, but as a leader. A leader of the great Black Draconium Empire!"

Moordryd felt his hope rise. He was elated. He smirked in the darkness. "I'll show him…"

"But not yet. Not for some time. Now, when he doesn't expect you to do…anything," Armeggeddon chuckled at his little joke. "He won't send barriers and obstacles to stop you. Contact your crew and tell them to meet in the Old City, north of Dragon City. We ride to raise our empire from the dust. Then attack when the time is right, seize control of everything, and become greater then the original empire."

"You were the original leader of the Black Draconium Empire." Moordryd remembered.

"And now this will surpass my old empire." Armeggeddon said, instilling in the young Shadow Booster a sense of pride and greatness to come. Such things were important. Armeggeddon smiled in the dark.

Moordryd stood, grinning, and used his wristCOMM to contact Cain. Armeggeddon watched expressionless. His ploy was working. Moordryd believed himself to be the greatest mag warrior of all time, which of course, he wouldn't be. Amreggeddon had merely stated the false fact just to implant a sense of worth in the Dragon Eye leader. If Moordryd believed he would indeed become someone great, he would stop at nothing to achieve it. Of course, Moordryd had the potential to become a very powerful warrior, but not the best.

As Moordryd finished contacting his crew, apparently most were there in Down City, safe and for the most part, apprehensive, Armeggeddon led him to where Decepshun would be waiting. They would travel north to Vision City, the capital of the black draconium city state, and there begin their empire.

----------

And so, Moordryd and his crew traveled north, news of his death spread by Connor, who had seen him fall. Word eventually took control of the entire city, securing it firmly with his wraiths, his army more than quadrupled in size and might. The Prophets returned to the Old City without major hindrance from the wraiths, where they captured and, in their minds, freed many dragons from the refugees of the city that had been forced out of Down City. Kitt and the others found this group of people where Reepyr was soon taken care of, though his arm would not quite work properly again. The refugees traversed the wastelands to the closet city, White Cliffs, and there rested. A counter-attack by Captain Faier never happened as he wanted it to. Dragon City had become too well protected, and any attack was almost immediately halted and driven back by the wraiths. Dragon City laid in the hands of Word Paynn.

Of course, there was a rescue attempt to help the Dragon Booster. But with the Shadow Track thoroughly guarded by wraiths and the Old City soon falling into Word's hands as well, and along with the sudden and deadly appearance of Drakkus, any attempt was thwarted, with no hope that another could succeed.

As the years passed, as empires rose, as the Ancient Hall of Records was discovered, as the Prophets and the Keepers Crew were driven from their hideouts, as treachery and betrayal threatened to rip apart fragile alliances, and as the return of Libris came and passed, still the Dragon Booster remained trapped with his fears, barely knowing what had befallen him. Until one day, nearly fifteen years later…


	12. The Passage of Time

**A/N: **I've made up my own date system for Dragon Booster, since none has been mentioned in the show. So if you happen to see me mention it in my fic…

Each year has 360 days. There are 6 months, and each has 60 days each. The months are, in order: Dryco, Durius, Nyvum, Apru, Raada, and Rinnan. The Draconian new year starts on Dryco the 1st. The Draconian calendar has started this date system from when the original Dragon Human war ended, which was about three thousand years ago from the present day in Dragon City. Artha was trapped in the Shadow Track on Raada the 39th, 3000 AB, exactly 3000 years after the original Dragon Human war ended. 3000 AB, stands for 3000 Anno Bellem, which is Latin for 'year of the war'. Thanks to the Furox for suggesting that and giving the meaning! And if you've noticed, Raada is Kitt's middle name. I thought, why not use that for the name of a month? ;)

I know I've left the last chapter off at Artha being trapped and all, but here's a bit of a flashback as to what happened when they're in the wastelands, and what happens during the fifteen years.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Dragon Booster.

* * *

_The Passage of Time_

It was down in the Old City, dark and forlorn, full of creeping shadows and the screams from above. It seemed that were still some people being attacked in Down City. Funny, Malto had thought that was long over and everyone dead, fled or captured. His dragon grinned at the sounds of terror and flicked his tail. Malto grinned along with him, without care or worry. They had both gotten out alright, much to the surprise of Malto, who hadn't expected to find his dragon down here and unhurt.

Malto's glance turned down from above and came to rest upon a haggard woman and her young son, sitting not far away. The mother clearly had no idea what to do, and was one of the thousands that would simply follow whatever orders that were given. The horror from above had certainly broken down the weak and the strong alike, all their bravery and resistance shattered and swept away with the rank wind, that is, except for Malto. He leered at the young boy who just happened to then look at him from where he had been staring at the bottom of Down City. Tears welled up in his eyes and he buried his face in his mother's tattered coat. She looked at Malto with blank eyes, perhaps seeing only the death of her kin over and over again. Malto laughed and turned his dragon away to weave in and out of the multitudes of people resting in the dirt of the Wastelands.

He had nowhere in particular to go, and as his dragon walked wherever he felt the fancy to go, Malto began to loose himself in his thoughts. He had the notion that Word had been the one controlling the wraith dragons for a while. Of course, he didn't know until that exact moment when Word chose to reveal himself, but he'd had a hunch. Which was one of the reasons why he had wanted to meet with him before, and talk about gears and plots and whatever else would come up. Then the Dragon Booster came while he was busying himself with helping Word's little brat win some competition for the Academy standings, just for a rare opportunity to meet Word.

But that was all over and done with, and still Malto prided himself on escaping from Precinct. Now perhaps he could go about his business once again. It would be too easy to go to White Cliffs, the main city for the once great white draconium empire, and once again sell black market and illegal gear. That would be too easy and would not grant him any worthwhile rewards. Worthwhile being power, might and the ability to call himself one of the most cunning men in history. But now that the war had finally started, Malto found a new window of opportunity.

Screams met his ears, jolting him from his gathering thoughts. His dragon tensed and stopped from his plodding walk. Malto looked to where the screaming had come from. Ah, it was happening again.

Dragons roared at the defenseless people and magged them away from themselves and off their saddles. The more thoughtful ones didn't bash them against rocks or drop them from great heights, to fall screaming and suddenly grow quiet after a dull thunk and a cloud of dust. The dragons then ran off, and the humans offered no resistance to their leaving. These were just the dragons who now opposed the humans. They would run away and group up into their respective draconium influences, to later discuss among themselves what to do. Then, as most did, they would go find the Prophets crew, the only way for a new world and to right the wrong. Other dragons still with their humans shifted nervously and uncertainly. Talk had been floating among them for a while now, and Malto could only guess at what they said. Perhaps of how the humans have once again used them as slaves, of how humans could not be trusted, or how great Propheci was, being the only dragon to lead the opposition.

Malto had heard enough about this orange dragon and the old crew to know how dangerous that one would be. Word had competition for world domination. A smile crept onto Malto's face, and his dragon smiled too, sensing his idea. The Prophets had no gear, no powerful gear, but Malto did. His smile turned again into a grin. What would a cunning man, desiring power, do in this circumstance? Selling powerful gear to all the huge, growing empires would certainly earn him plentiful rewards, not to mention that he could perhaps rest in their good graces. He would be like the mercenary white draconium empire of old. All the advantages of this clearly outnumbered those of continuing his small schemes in a simple city. And who knew what he could do, once he gained the trust of those around him. Malto grinned.

"Malto. I'm surprised to see you…down here and alive."

Malto turned quickly to look behind him. There, seated all high and mighty on his blue dragon, was Captain Faier. His right arm was heavily bandaged and he clearly avoided moving it too much. Malto frowned at him.

"Faier, long time no see."

Faier pursed his lips irritably. "Malto, I don't need trouble from you."

"Heh, I've done nothing," Malto grunted and looked Faier over. "Do you plan on shackling me?"

"You don't know how much I'd like that. But I can't waste my time on petty thieves like you."

Malto sneered at him. He was not a petty thief, he was a highly capable black market dealer. Faier grinned softly at Malto's apparent annoyance.

"I'll, I'll not get in your way then. I only wish to make it in one piece to White Cliffs."

Faier nodded slowly, and looked at the people around him. "I don't suppose you could do much anyway. And I can't waste security on holding you. Drakkus knows there's few enough as it is." Malto held his sneer in place, but chuckled inwardly. Faier looked sharply at him. "I'll be calling ahead to White Cliffs. They'll know we're coming and know about you. You'll be taken into custody there, and if you choose to try to go to another city, I'll have your warrant all over the place. You're a wanted man, Malto. No one likes your type."

"Don't you forget to do that now." Malto said softly and harshly. He personally had no intention of going with them to White Cliffs, or to any other major city for the time being. He had things to do here. "By your leave, Faier. Try not to let too many innocent people die before we reach safety."

Malto turned his dragon as Faier glared at his back. Just what he needed, escaped convicts to make his job more complicated. If he was lucky, perhaps Malto's dragon would turn on him and…Faier gave his head a shake. What was he doing? He sighed. He shouldn't wish for Malto to die or become injured, he wasn't like…Word Paynn. Faier clenched his teeth and grunted as he pushed forward his dragon's handles.

His dragon walked calmly and slowly through the throng of people and dragons, careful not to step on or frighten any. Faier's eyes scanned the crowds. Where was that Dragon Priest? Mortis? Or the Dragon Master Akaria? Faier had ordered the mass multitude to head to White Cliffs within a few hours. It took time to get everyone settled and somewhat orderly. Faier blinked and noticed, ahead and off to his side, one of the Penns. Just the people he needed to talk to, since he had neither seen nor heard of Mortis yet, and he knew of no others who had any sort of connection with the Dragon Booster. Where was he? Faier wanted to ask.

Lance, Kitt, Parm, some pale, thin man, Marianis, and oddly enough Spynn too, were walking along quickly, or rather, riding on Frachsun and Cyrano, who were the ones walking quickly and looking rather exhausted. Faier opened his mouth to talk to them, but Parm interrupted him.

"Hey, Faier! Faier, we need to talk to you! It's about the Dragon Booster…."

----------

Artha blinked and looked around. Decepshun and Moordryd were poised, ready for something to happen; nothing did. Perhaps that was why his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. He looked around, as if trying to find whatever trap he had been leading Artha into and the reason of it's failure.

"What's the matter Moordryd?" Artha said, taunting him. Taunting Moordryd was fun, especially now, when Artha himself was elated that Moordryd's trap, whatever it had been, had apparently failed.

"Wha…I don't understand…" Moordryd trailed off, still looking around himself at the dead Shadow Track. His voice was…different. Artha shook off the feeling of suspicion; he supposed it was simply the echoing in the cave, or something to that extent, that seemed to deepen Moordryd's voice so. Strange that his voice was not affected the same way.

Artha looked down at Beau and felt better when his dragon grinned up at him. Beau didn't seem as uneasy as he. Artha looked back to Moordryd and leaned forward, resting his gauntleted arm on his saddle. "So Moordryd. What was your brilliant plan?"

Moordryd sneered at him. "It's supposed to work…maybe my father was wrong." Moordryd grunted and stared at Artha hard. "I can't believe he was wrong…"

Artha laughed at him. "Word can't be right all the time, Moordryd. What was he expecting? Was the Shadow Track supposed to…to magically regenerate?"

Moordryd narrowed his eyes. "Yes. He said that it would. But…"

"He's wrong, as it seems. Now how about you and me talk about why he sent you here in the first place."

Moordryd's gaze snapped up from where he had been almost forlornly staring at the ground; his heated gaze was the exact same Artha had seen on cornered animals on any documentary presentation he had been forced to sit through when he had gone to school. Artha knew enough to know that any cornered animal or human would fight twice as hard to get away from the claws of its attacker, which happened to be more often than not the Murhota. Artha grabbed his jakk-stick, ready for Moordryd to make the first move, and grinned inside as his outward expression was one of determination. He rather liked referring himself as the hunter, attacker, beast of the wastelands, the Murhota. Artha tensed his muscles, instructing them to be quiet and ready till he pounced like the dragon.

Moordryd eyed Artha's readiness to fight. He pressed his lips together, seemingly unsure of whether to tell the Dragon Booster anything. Artha had the dim feeling that he wasn't about to say anything. "I'm not telling you anything." Moordryd proved Artha's thoughts. "Are you that dimwitted to think I actually would?"

"No, but I can always try."

Moordryd sniffed. "You're wasting your time then. Idiot."

Artha grimaced. It seemed to him that fighting Moordryd and beating him would be the best way to see if he could get anything out of him then. The Shadow Track was dangerous and mysterious. He had to know why Word would want more black shadow draconium samples. For better, more improved wraith gear? Or worse?

"Moordryd, you can either cooperate or," Artha said and paused while he twirled his jakk-stick and held it in one hand while his other immediately filled with Beau's gold mag energy, "I'll just have to fight you again."

Moordryd scoffed at him. "Fight me then. You won't win." Moordryd pulled back on the handles to back Decepshun up. Her claws clicked on the draconian ground as the distance between the two dragons increased. Beau snorted and advanced, walking at the same speed as Decepshun; she coolly glared back. Artha held his mag-push in an unwavering hand. Steady like the Murhota, until he was ready to strike.

Moordryd then looked up just as Artha was about to throw his mag-push. Artha instead held it and looked to what held Moordryd's attention. Black shadow draconium covered the gleaming ceiling, and at various intervals, pointed down as stalactites. Moordryd grinned. Artha couldn't fathom as to why he would be so happy to see that, a rough ceiling of a cave. Moordryd glanced quickly at the Dragon Booster, noticing his stare. Then his attention was quickly focused on the roof above him once more.

Moordryd lifted his hands and Decepshun concentrated her mag energy to flow into him. Bright, purple beams of his mag-push snaked through the air to the stalactites above Artha's head. Artha gasped as the huge pieces began to fall, dislodged from their precious and once eternal grip. Beau leapt aside, dodging them as they fell. Some of the larger pieces were as big as Fracshun.

Moordryd laughed and when the ceiling settled and no more stalactites would fall, Decepshun bounded past Artha and Beau, who had slipped on the slick ground. Beau roared, both furious at himself for loosing his footing and embarrassed. "Follow them boy," Artha said as Beau leapt into a run. "The Shadow Track is still broken and Word's plan is useless now." Beau smiled, narrowed his eyes in determination and kept close on Decepshun's tail through the winding Shadow Track as she led the way out.

A certain part of the track became familiar to Artha, who recognized it as the place where he had been captured by the black shadow draconium once before. He wouldn't let that happen again; he knew what it felt like. Besides, he had conquered his fears. What others did he have?

Feeling high and mighty, Artha and Beau followed Decepshun as she leapt out of the Shadow Track into the wastelands beyond.

Beau landed outside the Shadow Track with a loud thump and immediately glanced around for Decepshun. There she was. Already at the edge of the clearing, where a huge rock face stood black against the dismal, grey sky.

"Moordryd," Artha called, but said nothing more as something most interesting had caught his attention.

It wasn't the fact that Decepshun had seemed to have suddenly teleported to the boulder. Beau and he had been right on her tail as she left the Shadow Track, and now, all of a sudden, she was nearly two hundred dracometers ahead. It wasn't that, nor the fact that Moordryd had, for some odd reason, halted Decepshun at the base of the giant cliff when he surely had a good lead. No, it was the giant cliff itself.

It was hugely, astoundingly gigantic. The top looked as if it reached as high as upper Down City, and it was wide. Thrice as wide as the whole clearing in which Artha sat on Beau, dumbfounded.

"Beau? That was definitely not here before…" Artha said. Beau scanned the precipice, then let out a low moan and looked around. Artha realized that he was looking for Kitt and the others. Where were they?

"Parm? Lance? Kitt? Moordryd's out, but he hasn't got what he came for. The Shadow Track is still dead. Where are you?" Artha looked around and nothing but the usual rubble of the Old City met his eyes.

"Can't find your friends? I think I remember seeing them when I went inside the Shadow Track. They were right beside you, watching me." Artha could see Moordryd's smirk from across the clearing.

"What? You didn't see us before you went into the track."

Moordryd's grin disappeared suddenly. Artha narrowed his eyes as Beau growled. "You're right boy. Something's not right here." Artha looked up at the huge boulder. "That wasn't here before…and how did Moordryd suddenly get so far ahead…the others aren't here…and the …the light…" Artha stopped his low voiced thoughts and looked up at the sky. "The moons weren't out when we went in. But the whole place is lit up like the moons _were_ out. There aren't any clouds in the sky, but I still don't see the moons. Or any stars." Beau looked up at the night sky as well and realized Artha's worry. Since there were no moons, stars or any sort of light in the Old City…where was the light coming from? And why was nothing up there in the sky?

The Old City was lit just like a normal night, which no source of light. Everything was well defined and could be seen clearly.

"The moons aren't out now." Moordryd called.

"Then where's the light coming from?" Artha called back and missed the fact completely that Moordryd had somehow overheard him while he had been musing things over in a near whisper from such a distance away.

"How should I know?"

"And where are the stars?"

"Behind the clouds."

"What clouds…"

"Those clouds." Moordryd pointed up, and Artha gasped.

The night sky was no longer clear and eerie. It now housed a layer of dark clouds. Yet the light in the Old City stayed the same.

Moordryd looked down from the sky to Artha again, and quickly spoke to take Artha's attention off the subtle differences between the Shadow Track's illusion and the real world. He grinned wickedly. Even if Artha found out where he truly was, he would still have to face his fears. And how could he overcome them this time? Moordryd's eyes flashed white in a malevolent flicker. Then, before Artha turned to look, they turned to the normal colour obtained by Artha's memories. "I may not have been able to get the draconium, but…"

Artha tensed as Moordryd left his sentence hanging. Moordryd's grin and leering, confident words gave Artha the chills. "Where am I?" He finally asked, becoming more unsure by the second. Everything was wrong, but this feeling felt familiar, yet Artha couldn't tell where he had felt it before. Artha knew he should know it, but something was getting in the way, forcing him to forget.

"Where are you?" Moordryd laughed. "Where are you?" He laughed again, harder, until he was holding his sides from the exertion. Artha and Beau waited while he laughed, the echoes bouncing back to them with more of an echo than they should've. Decepshun chuckled softly as Moordryd at length quieted. He laughed quietly once more before he spoke again. "Where are you? You, Artha Penn, are in an eternal nightmare."

Beau's growl was cut short as both Artha and he started at the huge roar of some colossal dragon. The pebbles, huge pillars and the entire illusion itself shook from the power of the bloodcurdling cry. All the while, Moordryd laughed.

The ground shook from the footsteps as Drakkus and his dragon appeared from behind the huge cliff. His dragon roared and Beau roared in reply. Snorting, the monstrous dragon grew quiet and deathly confident. Artha looked back to the smirking Moordryd. Artha looked back from Moordryd, to Drakkus, then from Drakkus to Moordryd.

"What…are you working with Drakkus?" Artha shouted.

"It would seem so, wouldn't it?" Moordryd replied and Drakkus' dragon started to walk forward to Artha. "My father and I have reached an agreement with Drakkus. It looks as if they have a lot in common."

Artha clenched his teeth and Beau backed up a couple of steps. No wonder Moordryd had stopped running. He had Drakkus to help him. Artha glared at Moordryd, who was now slinking out of sight and soon disappeared behind the cliff. His attention was quickly diverted when Drakkus' dragon roared furiously at them.

"Dragon Booster." Drakkus said without emotion.

"Drakkus." Artha said in the same, devoid tone. Well, at least he had stopped Moordryd from getting the draconium. "Parm?" Artha shouted without looking around, his gaze fixed on Drakkus. Drakkus laughed softly.

Artha ground his teeth. He just had to get out of here and find the others. He did, after all, have a race later. He pulled back on Beau's handles, and may have been too obvious with his motions, for Drakkus noticed.

"Dragon Booster, you don't want to leave now. Not after I've told you what I have."

Artha paused. "What do you have?" Suddenly, he thought of his missing friends. "No!"

"Yes, those pitiful excuses you use as aid in your battles." Drakkus sneered.

"Give them back! What have you done with them?"

Drakkus laughed. "You seem…frightened." The last word he stretched out and Artha didn't like how Drakkus seemed to grin beneath his dark mask.

"Of course I'm frightened! Where are they? If you've hurt them…" Artha left his sentence unfinished and the loose end dangled in the silence between them. After a few minutes, during which Artha was sure Drakkus had been laughing softly, Drakkus spoke.

"Allow me to ease your _fears_. Your friends are unhurt…for the moment."

"Gee, thanks. I feel a lot better. Now tell me where they are! I'm not leaving without them!"

Drakkus stared at the Dragon Booster and droned in a dead voice. "But they've left without you."

"What?"

Drakkus only laughed. Beau tensed, but not because of Drakkus. He craned his neck to look behind Drakkus' huge dragon, and then Artha heard it. A scream.

Artha's mouth went dry. "Parm?" Artha looked at Drakkus, to see him eyeing him intently. "What did you mean they left me?" He asked him harshly.

Drakkus didn't appear to like being talked to so harshly. His dragon started to walk forward menacingly. He ignored Artha's last question. "What are you going to do, Dragon Booster? Come. Try and save your friends."

"Alright then, I WILL!" Artha accepted the challenge with confidence. Drakkus' eyes smoldered with a green flame as he leapt into the air on a purple mag-stream. "Mag me, Beau!" Artha shouted, but it was not needed, as Beau had already thrown him up on a stream even before he spoke.

The Dragon Booster and Drakkus soared through the air to meet each other; Drakkus had both his hands full of mag energy and the Dragon Booster held his jakk-stick tightly in both of his. Drakkus slowed his speed and let loose his energy.

Artha managed to bat away a few of the mag-pushes, but was quickly hit by the rest and thrown back. Drakkus finished his mag-fury and nearly shook his head at the Dragon Booster's ineptness to dodge or defend.

Beau managed to stop Artha's headlong plunge towards the cliff of the Shadow Track behind him. Artha straightened himself on his mag-stream and glared at Dakkus, who was waiting patiently for Artha to make the next move.

Artha knew that he could not defeat Drakkus. Not in a one on one battle. But he had to save his friends. Parm had just _screamed_.

Artha fingered his jakk-stick, all the while glaring at Drakkus and frantically thinking of how he could at least get past him. _The huge boulder…_

Artha looked. Drakkus was standing right in front of it. All Artha had to do was try to bring down some of the rock on top of him, which would stall him, distract him or injure him. Preferably all three.

Without further hesitation, Artha magged upwards to meet Drakkus, who was patiently waiting, supported by his dragon's mag stream. Soon, he too rushed to meet his foe.

Artha quickly put away his jakk-stick and faster than he had ever done before, sent a huge mag-push right at Drakkus with both his hands. Hands shaking from the amount of energy Artha had let flow through him, his heart leapt as Drakkus was hit, evidently too late to bring up a mag-shield or some other defense. He cried angrily as he flew through the air and landed on the ground beyond his dragon in a heap. His dragon ignored Artha and Beau and turned the front part of his body and readied himself to mag his rider, who was just rising from the ground.

Though Artha was rather surprised he had managed to hit Drakkus, he wasted no further time in sending another mag-push at the rock face. Beau helped to mag part of the rock down. Then Beau magged Artha and ran after Moordryd, even as the rock was still falling and Drakkus' screams of rage and defeat rang out across the desolate Old City.

When Artha vanished, Drakkus, from beneath the piles of rock and rubble, smiled. Eyes shining ghostly white, he laughed. Artha Penn was just giving into his fears. Another scream from the illusionary Parm and a new one from Lance only let the Shadow Track know that the Dragon Booster was indeed frightened for his friend's lives.

Artha raced on, nearing the screams of terror, the only thing in his mind was to help them. He was afraid, and his fears took over him.

----------

The moons were out in the clear, night sky. They cast a silent, haunting light upon the huge windswept cliffs, which towered into the sky, threatening to touch the moons and scatter the stars with their pointed tips. The pale moonbeams made the white city glow, and to Lance, the city looked as if it were made of bone. He dimly realized that must be why White Cliffs was also called the City of Bones.

Lance remembered riding across the plains as the city rose before the refugees from Dragon City. As they had ridden into the monstrous shadow and started to travel up the slight hill leading to the great gates, Parm wouldn't stop talking about the ancient history about the city. He went on further to talk about the city's sewage system, which was a sign to all who were actually listening that he was merely talking to calm himself. Lance had never seen another city before, other than Dragon City, and neither had Artha. Artha had always told him that one day they would travel to White Cliffs or Oceania and see the elite races on the famous racing tracks. But here he was, without Artha. And his Dad wondered why he was so downcast.

And tonight the moonlight mocked him, for it was the very same, dull glow that had first appeared the night Artha was trapped and millions captured and killed, and reappeared every night thereafter, following them to White Cliffs. Every time Lance saw the moonlight, it brought back all the visions, memories and the knowledge of what had happened to Artha.

Lance sighed and turned away from the window where the moonlight filtered into the apartment where they were now staying in White Cliffs. It was night, of course, and it was getting rather late. Lance looked up at the glowing VIDDscreen in the room from where he was watching as he sat on the edge of his bed. He couldn't help but stare at the date. Raada the 47th. Nearly eight days before, Dragon City had been overthrown and the news never talked about anything else but that and the current situation. Lance frowned at the date, still shimmering in the top right corner of the screen, along with the present temperature. Artha had been trapped in the Shadow Track for eight whole days now.

Lance quickly glanced away from the screen to stare at his shoes. Parm and Kitt watched him silently from across the room, with worried expressions on their faces.

Their apartment in the city was well furnished, and consisted of three rooms. One for Connor, one for Lance, Parm and Reepyr to share, and one for Kitt and Marianis, who was still brooding over the fact that none of her crew seemed to have made it out of the city safely. Spynn tended to pop her head in every so often and greet Reepyr with a smile, who then accompanied her outside. Lance didn't even have the heart to make kissing sounds or to bother them about it, as he used to love doing to various, smitten people.

But tonight, Reepyr had already left with Spynn, Marianis was in one of the other bedrooms, Parm and Kitt were sitting with Lance in his room and Connor had gone to discuss Dragon City's situation as Mortis with the leaders of White Cliffs.

"You know, Lance…" Kitt started and got up from where she had been sitting beside Parm on a couch. She walked over to Lance with a reassuring smile on her face. Lance didn't even look up as she sat beside him on the bed. "Arth…Artha's alright. Is…"

Lance sighed and looked at her. "I know what you're going to say. Artha's the Dragon Booster, the suit will help him, he's got enough food for a month, Beau's there with him…" Lance trailed off. "But…I know Artha's alright…for now. But they're not doing anything!"

Kitt sighed inaudibly. "Lance, we only just got here this morning."

"Right, and they should've left to go help him already." Lance insisted. "He's the Dragon Booster. Why haven't they left already?"

"Connor's probably getting them to leave now." Kitt eyed Parm across the room. "Right?"

"Oh, yes! Of course. Well, there are certain complications." Parm mused and played with his fingers, no longer looking at Lance and Kitt. "There's barely any elite racers here, they were all in Dragon City on the elite racing circuit, or competing in Oceania. And I doubt there are many academy level racers here…Dragon City houses the academy…and Dragon City is full of wraiths now…White Cliffs certainly does not have enough security forces to go help free Artha…" Parm frowned at his fingers.

There were no such things as armies. The only thing that could even come close to resembling a fighting force were the elite racers and each of the city's security forces. And now, for the first time in thousands of years, the first true army had risen. Nearly two million of Dragon City's inhabitants were wraiths, but this, of course, was just an estimate. How could White Cliffs simple security force and perhaps a few elite racers hope to come close to freeing the Dragon Booster?

"Parm, that's not helping." Kitt hissed at him.

Parm glanced up. "Well, it's true. I mean, we'll have to wait for a few other cities to come help. White Cliffs can't, and won't do it alone." Parm glanced worriedly at his twitching fingers again. "But, Artha will be alright until then. Dragon City's situation is most likely number one on everyone's agendas. They'll get help quickly and free him. Artha will be fine until then," Parm nearly repeated as he pried his fingers apart and thrust them deep into his pockets.

Lance nodded, relieved that someone was telling him the direct truth. Kitt laid a hand on his shoulder. "We just have to wait until Connor comes back." Lance smiled gratefully up at her. "Maybe…maybe you should get some sleep until he…."

"No way. I'm waiting until he comes back," Lance said defensively.

Parm yawned. "Well, I don't think any of us could sleep until we know what exactly is going to happen."

Kitt grinned at him "Are you sure? You seem a bit tired."

"I'm not," Parm yawned and tried to hide it behind his hand. He noticed Lance and Kitt's grins. "Well I'm not! Not a lot, anyway."

Lance brought up his legs to sit cross-legged on the bed as their grins faded away. It was hard to stay upbeat. "Do you think Artha can get to sleep in the Shadow Track? I mean…it's dark…and cold…I…I bet he's wondering why no one's come to free him yet!"

"Lance, Artha will be fine," Kitt said.

"Yeah, yeah, he's got Beau and everything. But you don't know that he isn't scared."

"I'm sure he's…concerned," Kitt faltered a bit, not wanting to call him frightened and cause Lance to worry more than he had to. "But he knows we'll get him out. He'll just rest, wait and play with Beau till then. Who knows? Maybe he'll even get out himself."

Lance smiled. "Do you think so?"

"Uhh…" Kitt shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe. But I wouldn't count on it. It would take Earth-class dragons to clear that rock slide in front."

"But Artha's got Beau. Beau could do it."

Parm hid another yawn behind his hand. "Well, perhaps. Who knows? But we should assume he can't, and get help for them."

"Right, and then we'll free him." Lance grinned. "Won't he be surprised to see us and elite racers from the other cities?"

"Lance," Kitt forced out. "I'm sure the Shadow Track is guarded…by a lot of wraiths. _A lot_ of wraiths. It's too dangerous for…."

"It's too dangerous for me to go?" Lance huffed and frowned back at his shoes, his question more of a statement.

Parm noticed Lance start to sink once again into a sour mood. "Yes, but it's even too dangerous for Kitt and me to go too," he said so Lance wouldn't feel as left out. Kitt glared at him. She was going, no matter what the others said. Parm noticed her look and sighed.

Right after their conversation died down, the door to the apartment opened. Kitt and Lance glanced to the bedroom door, which was open just a crack. Someone had returned and was walking around the apartment. Kitt caught a glance of Connor through the crack in the door, walking and rubbing his head.

"Dad! In here!" Lance called.

Connor followed his son's greeting and was immediately bombarded by question after question from Lance. "What'd they say? Who was there? Who's going to save Artha? How many are going? Can I go? What…"

Connor held up his hands wearily, exhausted from worrying so much about his eldest son, the sudden appearance of the second dragon-human war and various other quibbles that needed fretting over. "Lance, Lance. Hold on." He sat beside Lance on the bed and Parm leaned forward from on the couch in anticipation. Connor looked at them all and put a hand around Lance's shoulders.

"First of all…White Cliffs does plan to help."

Lance, Kitt and Parm waited for some more. After a few seconds of silence, Parm raised his eyebrows. "And?"

"Well…what has been decided was not what I…hoped."

"Why not? You said they were going to help? Aren't they?" Lance asked.

Connor nodded his head slowly. "Yes, but not alone. They're calling for a meeting with the Dragon Masters from the other cities. If we're lucky, we'll have the Dragon Masters from the light blue, green, blue, brown and red city states. Since the other city states are too far to come in such short time, hopefully we should have the black, turquoise, purple and even grey Dragon Masters participating by VIDDscreens."

Lance smiled again. "When will they get here?"

"In about a five days they'll have the meeting here."

"Five days? But…"

"Lance," Connor said, "that's how long it'll take to get here from the other cities. And the worst news is…their cities have been overtaken by wraiths as well, at the exact same time as Dragon City." Silent gasps filled the small room as Connor continued. "Word placed wraith gear in _all_ his gear. We'll have plenty of refugees and the few Dragon Masters who made it safely out."

"And we're supposed to count on refugees to help free Artha?" Lance growled.

"We received word that there are quite a few elite racers coming. Not all hope is lost."

When Connor finished talking, Kitt immediately asked, "but wasn't White Cliffs penetrated by wraiths as well?"

Connor managed to smile. "White Cliffs has very few gears made by Word Paynn. Most of the gears in the city were made by his competition. So the wraiths that did pop up were quickly dealt with."

Parm's smile, along with Kitt and Lance's, faded. "I had no idea that this happened all over the world…" He said quietly.

"But then they'll all go and help Artha, right?" Lance asked again, cutting in.

Parm shook his head. "They'd need to actually agree on a plan, which may take several more days…or longer. Then, if a suitable plan is initiated, they'll have to have time to organize their fighters and the refugees and create a viable battle strategy. And we have to hope that there is quite a few elite racers and security forces who made it out alright from the other cities. But even then, they'll be hopelessly outnumbered. They'll have to do a sneak attack somehow. We should hope the track isn't too thoroughly guarded…"

Lance glowered at Parm. "That's not helping." Parm grinned sheepishly without much heart, knowing full well that if he hadn't been stopped, he would've gone on and on and on…

"Lance, perhaps you should sleep now." Connor said and stood.

"But a week?" Lance's mood changed drastically, and his voice rose in anger. "Artha can't stay there for another week! Why aren't they doing something!"

"Some of them," Connor said calmly, "don't believe in the Dragon Booster. They don't think he can really stop the war."

"But they should! He did it once before! They have to save him now!"

"Lance, it'll take time." Connor motioned to the bed once again, an almost pleading look in his eyes for everyone just to go to sleep.

"Why? Why aren't you doing anything? Get the other Dragon Priests and save him now!" Lance yelled. "Then he can stop the war and free all those people! And…and find Spratt…do something! Do something before more die!" Tears choked his voice near the end as he thought of Spratt, and of Sparkk who hadn't made it out either…

"I know Lance," Connor said, a hint of frustration in his voice. "I won't let more die if I can help it. But we can't simply rush into Dragon City."

"You're just going to wait around till more die? Maybe Spratt will die before you can save him, just because you're waiting for the others to make a decision! You…you're killing them if you just sit here!"

"Lance, I don't want anyone to get killed. I…"

"What do you mean? You're the one who killed Moordryd!" Lance screamed the last bit at him and jumped up from the bed. He shoved his way past Connor and ran out of the bedroom, tears blinding his eyes.

Connor stared at the flung open door. He groaned and clenched his fist. "This is…this is all too…" He loosened his fists and sighed with difficulty.

Kitt wished she could say something to help, but she couldn't think of anything. She looked to Parm, and felt relief as she met his eyes, which she so often did of late. Parm gave a slight half smile, intended for her and her alone. Without looking at the two, Connor walked out of the room. Kitt opened her mouth to say something to Parm, but was interrupted when she heard Marianis' cooing voice. Kitt froze. Marianis sounded close…had she been listening?

"I think…I think Marianis must have heard…everything." Parm gulped. Kitt felt as though nothing more could stun her now. She felt numb and empty. Marianis must have heard them use Artha's name in place of the Dragon Booster's.

"Maybe she just came." Kitt whispered. Parm shrugged nervously and walked out the door as Kitt followed.

Marainis was in the main room of the apartment, sitting on a chair right beside the door to Lance's room. She had to have heard everything. Lance was on her lap, and had laid his head on her shoulder. He had certainly grown closer to her as they traveled to White Cliffs. Connor was standing beside the chair and his face betrayed his thoughts. He too feared she had heard more than she should've.

Marianis looked at them all without a trace of emotion on her face. "So Artha's the Dragon Booster."

----------

Artha urged Beau onward, following Decepshun's trail. For how long they ran on, Artha could not say. It felt like only a few seconds, but Artha knew it was more like a few minutes. Then, as he reflected on it, he wondered whether it had been a few hours instead. For whenever Beau and he got close to the source of Parm's yells, they faded again into the distance. Artha and Beau were forced to follow them again.

Decepshun's trail had long since vanished and Artha couldn't remember where it had exactly disappeared. Beau led the way, following the screams with hearing better than Artha's. Artha hung on and looked around. For a while now, however long that was, he hadn't recognized where they were. Of course they were in the Old City, but where? The huge mounds of rubble rose indiscreetly all around and blocked any decent view of where they were. The statues were alien and unrecognizable. The sand was light and uncommonly fine. The shadows were dark and the eyes that peeped out from them were darker.

Artha crouched down on Beau to get closer to him. He was the Dragon Booster, he shouldn't be scared. But he was. And each time Parm's scream rose in anguish, Artha's palms sweated and his grip on the handles tightened. Then Kitt screamed.

"Enough!" Artha yelled and pushed forward Beau's handles. "Go Beau! Before we lose them again!"

Beau was all for finding them and he sped up, which wasn't necessarily the best thing to do in the narrow, winding trails. Beau could barely keep his feet and Artha was compelled to help guide Beau through the ruins on the off chance that he may see an obstacle before his dragon.

They were going far too fast, but Artha didn't slow Beau down. They jumped over rocks and only just managed to avoid colliding with boulders. But still Parm and Kitt's screams were before them.

Then suddenly, Artha and Beau leapt into a concealed building that looked just like the ruins around them. Neither Artha or Beau realized what they had ran into until they were nearly in the middle of the large room.

"Parm! Kitt!" The intricate details of the building and the feeling of an ancient civilization long gone were lost on Artha as he saw his friends.

From across the expanse of a chasm that breathed out hot air from the lava that flowed beneath, Kitt and Parm were trapped up against the far wall by green trapping gear. They smiled back at Artha.

"Could you get us down from here? Quickly?" Parm quivered and looked between his feet. Kitt and he were trapped against the wall, hanging securely, but below them was the river of lava. Parm's feet dangled in the air.

"Hold on, I'll get you down." Artha shouted at them and walked Beau to the edge of the chasm and looked into it. He looked back up at his friends. How was he going to get them down?

"I have an idea," Artha called out to them, inspiration striking. "You aren't too far away for Beau to mag. So I'll knock the trapping gear off you, then Beau will mag you over here."

"Oh, great." Parm said unenthusiastically as he stared down at the red river.

"It's okay," Kitt said. "Artha will get us down. I have faith in him."

"Well…uh, thanks Kitt. I'll free Parm first because…" Artha trailed off, looking at the quivering Parm. "Because he hates heights most."

Parm forced his eyes away from below and stared at the solid ground Artha stood upon. "Alright, I'm ready."

Beau nodded to Artha, to indicate that he too was ready. Beau stood at the very brink of the chasm and gave Artha a stream of mag energy, who concentrated it into his hands. Pram prepared himself by closing his eyes. "Oh," came a disturbingly familiar voice, "I wouldn't do that. Not now. It could be too dangerous."

"Moordryd!" Artha vexed and twisted around to see the smirking Paynn on his dragon. When Beau growled at Decepshun, she grinned back at him. "What did you do to them? Why?"

Moordryd laughed. "I haven't hurt them, if that's what you mean. I haven't hurt them yet."

"Why would you hurt them?" Artha frowned.

"This is my backup plan, Dragon Blunder. My father was wrong about the Shadow Track and I can't return with nothing. So I contacted Drakkus, who had already sided with my father and me, and I sent him out to stop you from getting here." Moordryd paused and looked distastefully at Artha. "How did you defeat Drakkus? You should've bee…forget it." Moordryd stopped when he saw Artha grinning.

Artha felt absurdly pleased with the fact that he was so far ruining Moordryd's plans and that Moordryd was surprised he had beaten Drakkus. Artha felt like a force to be reckoned with. "So why did you want to stop me from getting here?"

"Because, I'm trying to find out your identity from the stable brats here. I know they know."

Artha glanced worriedly at Kitt and Parm. "Don't worry, we didn't say anything." Kitt assured him.

"Not yet." Moordryd grinned at them.

Artha glared back at Moordryd. "What were you doing to them?"

Moordryd shrugged. "Nothing too much. Want to watch, Dragon Boo-Boo?"

"Of course not!" Artha retorted, affronted that Moordryd would suggest such a thing.

"Hey egghead!" Moordryd yelled to Parm. "Who is the Dragon Booster?"

"I'm…I'm not saying!" Parm said and held his chin up.

Moordryd grabbed a small remote from his jacket. Being so small, it was slightly concealed by his hands so Artha didn't get a good look at it. He could tell, however, that Moordryd pushed a button, immediately resulting in Parm's scream.

"Parm!" Artha yelled as the green trapping gear holding his friend began to loosen and slip. Parm looked between his toes to the fiery death beneath. His back scraped against the firm wall as he slid down. When Moordryd stopped his sliding, Parm breathed a sigh of relief.

"Tell, or you fall!" Moordryd called. Parm shuddered as the trapping gear slipped some more and he started to slowly inch down to the lava five hundred meters below. He looked at Kitt who was now higher than he and seemed to gain some defiance. He set his mouth in a firm line. He wasn't telling, not yet.

Artha watched in horror. It was only a matter of time until the trapping gear let go of the wall completely. But Moordryd wouldn't do that, would he?

"Moordryd, this is you last chance, stop it!"

"Not until he tells me!" Moordryd yelled back.

"If you won't stop, I'll just have to stop you!"

"Back off!" Moordryd said viciously and held up the remote so Artha could see it and his finger poised above the button. "Stay back or I drop him!"

Artha sneered at him. "Then I'll go catch him!" Parm looked from Moordryd to Artha and then down at the lava, not at all liking the idea of falling.

Moordryd said nothing in return, but growled in irritation. He knew Beau could fly and could fairly easily catch Parm, free Kitt and glide back up to safety. However, he pressed the button lightly, causing a small scream from Parm as the trapping gear loosened its grip some more. Beau backed up to the edge of the chasm, ready to immediately jump off if Parm fell.

As Artha glared at Moordryd, Moordryd rubbed his finger lightly over the button, threatening to push it. "You're ruining my plans, Dragon Booster." He snarled at Artha.

"Good," came Artha's simple reply. Artha glanced quickly to Parm to make sure he was holding up okay, then turned back to Moordryd and watched him with a careful eye. His heart was thudding in his chest. What if he hadn't come here in time? Artha twitched his sweaty fingers. But he was here now, and he could save Parm and Kitt.

The Shadow Track felt the Dragon Booster's ebbing fears and threatened to release him. It was on the verge of doing so, but Moordryd had another trick up his sleeve. Not ready to let go of the Dragon Booster just yet and knowing what tactics had kept Artha in the Shadow Track this length of time wasn't working anymore, Moordryd called out to him.

"Where's your little brother?"

Moordryd's barking laugh made Artha's pulse increased as he realized the missing Lance.

"Dragon Booster," Moordryd said in a dead tone. "You don't want to see what's happened to Lance. Be ready to lose him."

The tactic worked. "No!" Artha screamed, imagining the worst. The Shadow Track strengthened again, feeling Artha's fears of losing his little brother. It fed upon the fears and refused to let him go.

----------

It was 3002 AB, a day after the new year had begun. Word smiled almost happily to himself, something he was doing quite frequently. Certain things were finally going according to plan. Word settled back in his chair, tapped his fingers and claws together and sighed. What a war.

Ever since the Dragon Booster had been trapped around two years ago - Word himself could barely believe it had been that long, or that the Dragon Booster had actually been trapped for that length of time - the world had delved deep into tumult. Word frowned upon the weak resistance the cities had managed to scrounge together as an appalling attempt to free the Dragon Booster. Of course it had failed and he had gotten new wraiths from the whole incident. But during that time, the Prophets had also made it perfectly clear that they were not one to lay around while all this happened. Their interference in the battle had been a bother. Word hated to think back upon it, but they had also captured quite a lot of his wraiths and now they were a force to be reckoned with. Word stared at his claws. He would live from his mistakes. The Prophets hadn't yet tried a direct attack on him, but when they did, they would be crushed.

Word breathed deeply and smiled again. Those were in the past, gone and done. Word now looked to the future.

Of the thirteen draconium cities, most had fallen. Dragon City and Oceania, the light blue city, were the first to fall completely under Word's control. The red, brown, green, blue and purple were next, as the wraiths all over the world hearkened to Word. Unfortunately, at the onset of everything, the wraiths in the turquoise city had been overcome by a surprise force from the grey city. The turquoise city was a free city, ruled by humans and a few dragons who worked with them. As far as Word knew, the grey city, or encampment rather, was free as well, though it disliked refugees of any sort and preferred to remain closed to the world.

Word wasn't much startled at the white city, White Cliffs, at how few wraiths had been in there. White Cliffs had remained a free city too, and was the headquarters for the Dragon Booster's allies, up until a few months ago. The Prophets had recently convinced the dragons in it to rebel and White Cliffs now belonged to them. The few humans that escaped were forced to find another refuge.

Only three cities remained, the black, light green and orange cities. The light green was as lost and mysterious as it ever was. The orange was the Prophets main base, since Propheci had been driven out of the Old City. The black, Vision City, was a free city as well. Word received no news about it and knew nothing other than that. Any scouts he sent were somehow…lost.

No matter. Seven of thirteen cities were under his control. His wraith army was stupendous, far larger than anything before. It dwarfed the armies of the original Dragon-Human war and dwarfed further the armies of today.

"I feel somewhat overlooked."

Word sighed inwardly and kept his irritation to himself. He turned in his chair to face his guest, who was guarded by two human wraiths and four wraith dragons. "Are you now?" Word asked smoothly.

"As it seems…yes."

"Terribly sorry for neglecting you."

The Dragon Priest pursed his lips together in annoyance. "I came here to talk, Word Paynn. Not to be ignored."

Word let a tiny smirk crawl across his face. The Dragon priest, properly armored in the Priest's armor, twitched his fingers in growing irritation. Other than that, his outward appearance showed no other sign of his emotions, as Dragon Priests should be in control of themselves. But Word had noticed the slight lapse of control. All the better.

"I realize that. Have I not said I would talk with you? An ambassador from the Dragon Priests and from the allies of the missing Dragon Booster. This is a serious meeting. The world is in an uproar."

"The allies of the Dragon Booster now call themselves the Gold Empire. And the world is in an uproar because of your actions."

Word laughed. "The Gold _Empire_? Forgive me, but this Gold _Empire_ is nothing more than a ragged band of refugees. Hardly an empire."

"We are more than a ragged band of refugees," the Dragon Priest said defensively, then fell silent, not wanting to tell more of them to Word. Word shrugged imperturbably. "Word Paynn," he continued, regaining his composure. "This war you have started…"

"Silence. I know what I have done and I know why you are here." Word cut him off with a wave of his hand. "You and the other Dragon Priests think that this new way of life is a complete violation of free will. You want humans and dragons to live together in harmony. But that will never happen!" Word snapped and slammed his balled fist on the armrest of his chair.

The Dragon Priest was silent. Word glared at him and continued. "There are dragons and humans out there, who will not, absolutely not work together. That number is growing, and has always grown. In order for your perfect world to come into being, you must exterminate them. They will not change their minds, not without the Dragon of Legend. And even if he were to return, there are those who will oppose you. Then, in the future, humans will once again enslave dragons. History will continue to repeat itself."

The Dragon Priest remained silent, seemingly milling Word's philosophy over in his mind. Then he at length spoke. "And how will you change things? How many have _you_ killed? Word, what you have done is beyond cruel.

"I thought you were here to discuss peace terms, not to argue about our different viewpoints." Word said calmly. The Dragon Priest fell silent, though still very much against Word's plans. Word grinned as he stared at the Dragon Priest, causing him to shift slightly. This Dragon priest was rash, for a priest, and Word wondered why they hadn't sent a more levelheaded one. Perhaps there were no others available to send.

Word suddenly spoke up before the Dragon Priest could say more and spoke with a mocking smile. "Why don't we begin our peace negotiations now? Allow me to begin." Word leaned forward to look the Dragon Priest as best he could in the eye. He spoke slowly and deliberately. "I will withdraw my wraiths from the blue city, the entire city, if…"

The Dragon Priest waited impatiently. "The entire city?"

Word smiled. "That will be helpful to you, won't it? Does me handing over the blue draconium city to you sound like something the Gold Empire would want?" Word barely managed to keep a cynical tone out of his voice as he mentioned the Gold Empire.

"I'm worried what you will ask in return. Though it is something we would greatly appreciate. It certainly has a strategic location."

Word never let his smile leave his face. This Dragon Priest talked too much. "In return for a whole city, I want one person. Just one person for an entire city. Mortis."

The Dragon Priest frowned. "What?"

"I want Mortis brought to me, bound and unconscious. Simply give me that, and the city is yours."

"What…you expect me to agree to that? What will happen to Mortis?"

"Don't concern yourself with that. Do we have a deal? Or must I better my offer?"

"I…we will not give you anyone to mistreat!"

"I will give you the blue draconium city and all the wraiths presently within it. I'll even free them all if you wish. That would be around nearly fifty thousand wraiths."

Word's evident rashness caused the Dragon Priest to question darkly. "Why is Mortis so important to you, that you would give up a huge benefit in this war?"

Word ignored him. He had reasons, reasons that did cause him to make imprudent choices in the war. But at the moment, Word wanted something more important than the war. Revenge. "Agree to the proposition. Your reward is more than the city and the wraiths…it is your life."

"Wha…" The Dragon Priest was cut off as the wraiths guarding him growled at him. He looked around, knowing he was thoroughly watched over. He also knew that Word was speaking the truth. "You can't…"

"I can. And other than this proposal, I have no further matters to discuss with you."

The Dragon Priest looked once more at the wraiths and their vicious teeth, before turning back to Word and speaking in a bold voice, one that did not waver. "I will not agree to such an offer. I cannot and will not make the decision to give up a friend of mine for you to maltreat. The Gold Empire will know how this meeting has ended if I do not return."

"You cannot hope to escape." Word said bluntly as the wraiths leaned forward to the Dragon Priest.

"I know." He said in response, and Word somewhat admired the man. The Dragon Priest moved forward quickly to Word, who had waited for that exact move. But the Dragon Priest moved faster than Word had anticipated. A golden mag-push from his hand exploded on the VIDDscreens behind Word, who had just barely managed to move his head in the nick of time.

Word responded by throwing a mag-push of his own. The Dragon Priest jumped onto Word's desk and fired off another mag-push, one that collided with Word's in mid air, which was quite an accomplishment considering the lack of distance between them. At the exact same time, another mag-push from the Dragon Priest's other hand flew through the air, catching Word on the shoulder. Word was thrown back to slam against his VIDDscreens, shaking the entire console.

The fight ended there as a human wraith behind the Dragon Priest grabbed his ankles and threw him down from the table. The Priest struggled to get to his feet, but one of the wraiths struck him quickly. The Dragon Priest took a glancing blow to his helmet and fell down again. The bipedal wraith put a hind foot on his abdomen and screamed at his face.

Word noticed a growing stain of blood on his orange robes. He tried not to appear at all weak or badly injured as he stood.

He faced the Dragon Priest, breathing heavily from the fight. The Dragon Priest glared at him, then slammed his head against the floor and yelled in anguish about his coming doom and his inability to complete what he had come to do.

"Quite quick with the mag energy." Word complimented him.

"Are you going to kill me now?" The Dragon Priest asked darkly.

Word looked at him with a deep thinking expression on his face, though he had already made up his mind. "Oh, I'll leave that up to Skin."

The Dragon Priest lowered his head back to the ground as the wraith took its foot off him. Two human wraiths lifted him to his feet and clamped a black jamming gear onto his shoulder. The Dragon Priest hung his head and stared at the ground, waiting for Skin as the black jamming gear, Word's newest invention, prohibited him from using his mag energy. Word liked his new gear. Unlike an energy drain whip, which drained the energy and left the subject weak and exhausted, this gear merely prohibited the subject from using the energy, which they could immediately start using again as soon as the gear was taken off. Word didn't want the Dragon Priest worn out or fallen nearly unconscious, he wanted him to feel helpless.

As if on cue, Skin then entered the citadel, features cloaked by a dark hood. Walking to them from a far door, the dark figure walked strongly to them in high, heavy boots. The dull echoes of the footsteps increased and then stopped their death beat as Skin stood beside Word Paynn. Standing nearly just as tall as he, Skin looked intently at the Dragon Priest, who looked intently back.

"Who is Skin?" he dared to question

Word smirked at him, then turned to Skin. "Why, my most skilled spy and questioner." Skin stood confidently, arms folded in a leisurely and deadly way. "Extremely skilled in those areas. Especially the questioning. Skin has very productive methods of making people talk."

"You're going to have me questioned before you kill me?"

"Of course. A little more knowledge of this Gold _Empire _will prove useful to me before you die. You should have accepted my proposal. Have you changed your mind?"

"You must be mad to even propose something like that. I do not change my mind, even if it means my life. And he," the Dragon Priest motioned to Skin with his head, "will not be able to make me talk."

Skin snarled, then walked briskly to stand in front of the Dragon Priest. "He?"

Skin threw back the black hood to reveal the face of a woman, a beautiful woman, yet a deadly one. Her dark purple hair was tied in a tight bun as she looked the Dragon Priest up and down, her momentary anger of being referred to as a he forgotten. Her eyes would have been a dull green colour, had they not been highlighted to a vicious glint by the scar that snaked from the middle of her forehead, across her right eye and then vanished half way down her cheek. The Dragon Priest tried not to wonder what was beneath the eye patch on her right eye; perhaps nothing. Skin's snarl returned and replaced the brief look of serene scrutiny.

"Thought only a dim witted man would be the one to kill you?" She snapped. She smiled as the Dragon Priest licked his lips in apprehension. Her eyes looked at him coolly. "You will talk, trust me. I will extract every last bit of information from your head." She tapped him lightly on his helmet as she said the last bit.

"Take him away." Word said and waved his claws around. "Feel free to do whatever you wish to him after he's talked. But be sure he's not breathing when you've finished."

Skin nodded curtly, then strode off with the human wraiths dragging the Dragon Priest behind. "Word Paynn, you…" The Dragon Priest's last words were cut short as the huge door clanged behind them.

The echo resounded in the citadel as Word sat once again in his chair. It was then he noticed the blood on his shoulder and the gash beneath his robes. He had forgotten about it. But that was perhaps a drawback to his amulet. He didn't feel any pain.

Word picked up the amulet hanging around his neck and held it between two fingers. He had done it. The amulet was made of black shadow draconium and was so far the first thing Word had been able to make from the black shadow draconium samples Moordryd had given him years ago.

He had found one of the secrets of the Shadow Track. What the black shadow draconium could do. His amulet was made in the shape of his company logo and was the same, intense purplish colour of the draconium. The draconium had the power to preserve life in the Shadow Track, so that the captive did not have to eat or drink to live. And so that the captive did not age while in the Shadow Track. Through years of research, Word had finally, over three months ago, managed to make the amulet. The amulet, as long as it was in close contact with Word, preserved him as it would if he were in the Shadow Track.

Word grinned. Over the past three months, he had not aged. He had not drunk or eaten or felt any pain. Word clutched the amulet tightly in his right hand. He would live to rule the world for a long, long time to come and find the Ancient Hall of Records, so he could build more formidable weapons from the black shadow draconium. He would be the greatest ruler there ever was. He would have thousands of years to learn from his mistakes, with not a worry about sickness or death from age. And that was okay with him.

Normally, living that long would be the worst punishment one could ever have. Outliving friends and family and living on this detestable planet for so long would be a nightmare. But Word had no family to outlive, nor anyone to miss.

Of course, in the future he would be able to make another amulet and give it to someone he deemed worthy. But he had no notion of doing that now. Only Moordryd would he have made it for….

Word clutched the amulet tighter in his grasp, the sharp edges biting into his skin. He would have Mortis. He would have Mortis for what he had done to him. Mortis had killed the only person left on the planet that Word cared for. Word breathed heavily in anticipation for what he would do to Mortis. No one killed his son and got away with it.

He was getting desperate now, now that he hadn't yet found Mortis. The proposal he had made to the Dragon Priest had been foolish and Word suspected that it wouldn't work. But if Skin were to find where the Gold Empire was hiding, Word would be able to find Mortis and bring him back. Not to kill him, but to torture him. To look into his eyes and see the pain, pain that Word was living daily.

Word sighed and let the amulet go. Red blood ran thinly down his hand where the sharp edges had pierced him. But he didn't feel it.

----------

"Lance! Magna Draconis, Lance!" Artha felt helpless and afraid. He couldn't reach Lance.

"Dragon Booster!" Lance wailed, tears choking his voice. "Get me out of here." His voice cracked on the last sentence as he burst into tears. With tears running rivulets down his cheeks, he pleaded with his older brother to do something.

But Artha couldn't. Moordryd laughed from where he had somehow gotten beside Lance. Artha couldn't believe he hadn't noticed it before. On his left was a huge expanse of lava, a boiling red death trap. With the heat hovering above it, Artha couldn't hope to jump or fly across, and as such, he couldn't reach Lance. Lance and Moordryd were on the far side of the lake. Lance was on the ground with closed eyes now, cowering from Moordryd Paynn.

"I said, who's the Dragon Booster?" He yelled at Lance. Lance curled up into a tight ball, with nowhere to go. The platform they were on was a small one.

Cain and the other Dragon Eyes grinned at Artha maliciously, guarding Kitt, Parm and him. There were perhaps fifty altogether in the strange building in the Old City.

"Do something Dragon Booster!" Cain taunted from Coershun. "Save him before he's hurt or killed." The Dragon Eyes laughed in agreement.

"Yeah," Rancydd sneered. "But wait, he can't. He can't do anything."

Artha glared at them, wishing he could fight them. But there were too many and they were content to let him listen to Lance scream. Artha's pulsed quickened as Moordryd advanced on Lance again, yelling at him. Artha was too far away and the heat waves dancing in the air distorted his vision so he couldn't quite see what Moordryd was doing to Lance. However, after Lance apparently rebuked Moordryd again, he whimpered and Moordryd yelled at him. Again.

Artha moved forward involuntarily and looked helplessly to Lance, muscles tightened in anxiousness. The Dragon Eyes around him chuckled. "You can't do anything. Face it. The brat will talk eventually." Cain said cynically. Artha wiped his mouth, longing to wipe his forehead instead. It was so hot. Why wasn't anyone else hot?

"Lance wouldn't talk. He…" Artha trailed off, beginning to wish Lance would, just so Moordryd would stop hurting him.

Cain chuckled. "Oh, he will. Moordryd will make sure of that. Lance will be hurt and we'll all know your identity. Scary thought, isn't it?" Artha had to agree with Cain. "And you can't stop any of this. What kind of a Dragon Booster are you?" Cain smirked at Artha and decided to answer his own question. "A pathetic one. Your dragon is even a sad replacement for the original Dragon of Legend."

Artha glanced down at Beau, who was staring forlornly across the lake of lava to Lance. "Don't listen to him boy. Think of all we've accomplished." Beau looked up at Artha, almost questionably, then smiled uncertainly. Artha gripped the handles tightly and looked over to Lance, still as full as fear as he had been since Moordryd had started hurting his little broth…

"Wait." Artha said determinedly. "Moordryd!" He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled. Moordryd turned to Artha and Lance skittered away from him as far as the small platform would allow. "Remember before, when I hadn't realized Lance was missing yet?"

"...yeah. So?" Moordryd asked, irritated at being interrupted.

"Well, you said, where's your little brother? Then you mentioned Lance. If you know Lance is my little brother, then why are you trying to find out who I am from him? You're not that stupid. Something's wrong here."

From across the lava, Artha could barely see Moordryd pause in uncertainty. The Dragon Eyes around him shifted. Beau narrowed his eyes as he realized it too. Artha looked around him, ignoring Lance, Kitt and Parm's cries for help. It was hard, but he tried his best to focus on his surroundings. He thought back to when he had first jumped out of the Shadow Track and how the clearing was different. Then it hit him.

"We never got out of the Shadow Track." Artha whispered. Beau stiffened.

"Of course you did!" Moordryd shouted at him. "You aren't in it!"

"Yes I am! And how did you hear me? I was whispering. None of this is real. I…" Artha slapped a hand to his helmet. "While I'm stuck in here, Moordryd's got the draconium samples!"

"No he doesn't!" Kitt said earnestly from where she was still trapped against the wall. "You aren't in the Shadow Track! Moordryd's hurting Lance badly. You should…"

"Be quiet. I can't believe I didn't know." Artha mumbled. "I've been here before…"

"And you won't leave now." Moordryd said with eyes white and shining, no longer pretending. "You're still trapped as long as you have your fears."

Artha glared at the Shadow Track's illusion. "What fears?"

"You're afraid of losing your friends, you're afraid for their safety and afraid that I'll find out your secret." Moordryd sneered at him.

"I am. But this isn't real. I'm not afraid if…if Lance gets hurt now. He's not my brother." Artha pointed out. Oddly enough, he could see Lance clearly now, enough though he was still on the other side of the lake. He was looking right at Artha, a look which Artha had only seen on him before when he was absolutely hurt inside. His eyes grew big and teary, stabbing Artha right in his heart. What was he doing? That was Lance.

Artha shook his head and gained new resolve. "You aren't Lance!"

Lance looked momentarily stunned, then snarled at Artha, his eyes suddenly white. Artha had won, and the Shadow Track shimmered and Artha's illusion broke. The illusion around him faded, and gradually, the Shadow Track came into view.

"You haven't won! Not by a long shot!"

Moordryd's screams lingered in the air as the draconium surrounding Artha and Beau shattered. Beau shook his head and roared triumphantly, replacing the fading sound of Moordryd's ill omen.

"Hey, boy! We did it! Again!" Artha laughed victoriously. Beau chuckled with him and stretched his body dramatically. Almost immediately after, he sprang into a gallop in the direction of the entrance. Artha barely had time to grab the handles to avoid falling off.

"Wait Beau!" Artha said and pulled back on the handles. Beau skidded to a stop, noticing why Artha had stopped him. Just before his front paws, lay a bomb. Or to be more exact, a very powerful mag grenade. Beau peered inquisitively at it, then magged it to Artha.

"Seems as though Moordryd forgot something," Artha said and put it safely in a compartment of his saddle. Beau ran off again. As the ecstatic feeling of victory ad the sweet taste of freedom somewhat passed, Artha found himself worrying. How long had they been stuck? More than a few minutes, he was sure. Ten or so minutes? Perhaps half an hour. At any rate, Moordryd would've raced out of the track with his prize. Artha had to hope Kitt and the others had caught him. Artha urged Beau to go faster. He had to hurry if he wanted to help them. Lance was probably worried about him, since he had not come out with Moordryd.

Artha grasped how lucky they were that they actually remembered the way they had come from. Both Beau and he almost got lost, but a few moments of deliberation on which way to go had them confidently running along. Artha didn't like being vulnerable and nervous in the Shadow Track, and was glad when the familiar pathway to the entrance came into view, though it didn't look as familiar as it should have.

Beau opened his eyes in surprise and slowed down, stopping before the huge pile of boulders and parts of the cliff blocking the way. "What?" Artha leaned forward in the saddle. "Moordryd. He blocked the entrance so I couldn't get out and stop him." Beau growled softly in his throat, surveying the rubble. How to get through? "Try magging some of the rocks away."

Beau and Artha both sent mag-pulls to a particular boulder that seemed to be blocking quite a bit. But try as they might, it wouldn't budge. Artha quit his mag-pull and sighed dismally. "We'll have to mag away all the smaller rocks first. And while we're busy doing this, Moordryd's getting away." Artha slammed his fist onto his saddle in exasperation. Beau murmured, as if to say that Kitt and the others would stop him. Artha felt reassured and when Beau started to mag-pull smaller rocks away from the main heap, he helped.

After about ten minutes had passed, Artha was becoming more than exasperated. This was taking too long and when he tried his comm-link, he got no answer. He glanced near the top and found a medium sized boulder to mag down. But when he lifted it from its place, a mini rock slide tumbled down.

"Yeah, now we're getting somewhere!" He exclaimed. Then the mini rock slide turned in to a medium sized rock slide. Heavy boulders and stone that made up the ceiling near the entrance began to slip out of place and fall roughly to the ground. "Then again," Artha said, staring at the collapsing ceiling, "maybe not. The whole entrance is falling down!"

Of course, the rest of the Shadow Track was made of black shadow dracomium and didn't threaten to collapse like the entrance was doing. Artha didn't care whether the track itself wasn't going to cave in, he cared whether the entrance collapsed and made the already huge pile of rocks blocking the doorway even bigger. The ground shook and rocks shuddered.

Beau's roar turned his head right to the ceiling above him, where the stone was cracking and began to fall. Artha covered his head with his hands and prepared for a hurtful encounter. But as he cringed against the falling rock, a few pebbles bounced off his helmet and the track grew silent. The potential cave in was over.

Artha lifted his arms from his head and sighed in relief, relief that he wasn't going to become thoroughly trapped in the track. "What did Moordryd do, bring down the whole cliff? He…of course!" As Beau coughed slightly from the bit of rising dust, Artha reached into his saddle and brought out the mag grenade. "Moordryd must've had more of these, and…and blocked the entrance by blowing up the side of the cliff!" He exclaimed the last part rather triumphantly, pleased with himself for figuring it out.

Artha quieted down and looked at the blockage again. "It'll take Earth-class dragon to move that mess. Unless…"

Beau looked from Artha, to the grenade, then back again with a growing uneasy look on his face. "But…setting off the grenade would just bring down the whole cliff." Beau breathed a sigh of relief. "But then again, it's so powerful it would bow a hole right through this mess." Artha mused things over, staring at the grenade. Beau tensed. "I got it! If we blow up the rocks there, then run right through with a mag-shield, then maybe we could get through before the other rocks actually fell." Beau looked at Artha as if he were crazy and shook his head.

"What else do you want to try? Can we really wait for them to get Earth-class dragons and clear the mess?" Beau shook his head ever so slightly. Artha, not feeling so sure of his idea anymore, stammered, "then…I guess we'll have to try this."

Beau looked at the pile of rocks and narrowed his eyes. He magged the grenade from Artha's hand and stuck it in between two boulders. He was the Dragon of Legend. They had to get out now. He backed up as the red light began to blink, warning of an imminent detonation. He crouched behind a boulder as Artha covered his ears and prepared for a mag-dome.

The high beeping of the grenade vibrated throughout the Shadow Track, and then stopped. Then it exploded.

Huge gouts of hot air and fire gusted through the rock, blasting a huge hole in the entrance. "Now!" Artha yelled and Beau ran forward, a mag-dome surrounding them and protecting them from the intense heat and falling rocks.

The grenade had been more powerful than Artha had expected. An absolutely enormous hole opened up before them, and for a moment, Artha had a clear view to the outside. Then the dust and rocks began to fall after being tossed up into the air by the explosion. "Almost there!" Artha yelled, and Beau gave on last effort and jumped over and under rocks to the outside. When he hit the ground again, he kept running. Artha kept the mag-dome over them as they ran away, the deafening crashing of the cliff as it now fell fully radiating in his ears. Rocks even fell around them as they reached the other end of the clearing, or so Artha supposed. A cloud of dust rushed out from the fallen cliff and charged towards the fleeing dragon and human with astounding speed. Though the mag-dome kept out the dust and rocks and kept them safe, it also distorted his vision, leaving the Old City around them to swirl in a golden, hazy scene.

Had the dust not been swirling all around them, Artha would have had a better view of his surroundings, but as such, he couldn't see ten dracometers in front of him. But he realized Beau and he should've reached the other end of the clearing by now. But they kept running, unhindered by the antediluvian ruins of the Old City.

Presently, the dust thinned and Artha could see somewhat better. Feeling that it was safe enough to get rid of his mag-dome, he did so and was able to look around without the golden tinge. He intended to look back at the Shadow Track and see what remained of the entrance, but his attention was diverted as he saw what had become of the Old City.

There was nothing left. Oh, there was something left, just not the usual ruins of the city. What was left were broken and torn banners flapping weakly in the breeze, dented remains of armor for both dragons and humans, a scarred earth and fallen weapons amidst the now flat and barren landscape of the Old City.

Artha and Beau gaped. What had once been a puzzling maze of debris and wreckage now lay a flat land. Artha could see for miles in either direction. "Beau…what happened? Our explosion didn't do that…" Beau made no sound in return, but looked blankly at the new terrain around them. What in the Magna Draconis had happened? Then Beau looked back to the Shadow Track. Artha looked back as well.

He could see the still monstrous hill that covered the Shadow Track, though the part where the entrance had been was now completely fallen and destroyed, leaving a huge gouge in the rock face. "Wow. What a bomb." But that scene, what Artha had originally thought would be so astonishing to see, paled in comparison to what was left of the Old City.

"Let's go, boy." Artha said and hunkered down in the saddle, turning his eyes away from the Shadow Track. Beau responded to his touch and started walking.

Artha eyed the strange new landscape around them. "What happened here?" He asked and saw a broken lance and a torn banner. "It looks like a battle." Artha stopped Beau and jumped from the saddle to examine the battle field more closely. His foot hit something and he picked up a helmet, which had been blown in half. He wondered what had happened to the person who had worn this.

Dropping it quickly, he wiped his hands on his armor. "This couldn't have happened. We must…we must've been trapped in the Shadow Track for more than a day at least. I…a week?" Beau looked at him and shook his head. Battles took time to organize and to actually happen. "A month then?" Artha asked weakly. Beau nodded uncertainly. Artha looked at the ground with clenched teeth. "I should have been here…to do something. Maybe this was because Moordyd got the samples to Word…maybe Kitt hadn't been able to stop him. This is all my fault!"

Artha yelled in exasperation and sat quickly on the ground and buried his head in his hands. Beau nudged him with his chin, to let him know he was still around and that he shared the blame. Artha didn't move.

A sudden, hopeless gust of wind raced past them. Dust swirled up and torn and burned banners beyond recognition flapped in the wind. Beau and Artha both lifted their heads and turned around as they heard a particularly loud flapping sound. Behind Artha was a banner.

It stretched out in the wind and was, unlike all the others, intact. Artha stared at the design on it. It was his crew symbol, a golden star.

"What? How…" He reached for it and grabbed it, pulling the broken end of the staff along with it. He, as Beau looked over his shoulder, lay it out before him. "What's this doing here? What was this… a crew war? Why was my crew in it?" Artha looked at it a while longer, than folded it carefully. "Beau…do you think Parm, Kitt or Lance was involved…or…"

Beau received a sudden idea and nudged Artha and lowered his head to his level. Artha jumped on the saddle, leaving the torn banner on the ground. He frantically tried his com-link. "Kitt? Parm? Lance? Dad?" But for each of the different numbers he tried, nothing happened. Just static. "What? Are they out of reach or did they change their numbers? Maybe this is broken."

Artha hit the saddle and turned off the comm-link angrily. "What in the Magna Draconis happened?" He yelled to the air. His voice echoed and nothing answered. He felt like Beau and he were the only living things left on the planet. "Let's go find someone." Artha said, both angry and frightened. This felt like the Shadow Track again with the surreal surroundings. Artha bent and picked up the banner as Beau lifted his head. This he stuffed into his saddle compartment as Beau walked off in the direction of the nearest drag way leading up into Down City.

The surrounding war scene stayed the same as they traveled. It must have been a massive battle, fought with mag-moves. What else could have leveled the Old City? All around he saw remains of more star banners, then finally, after five minutes of silent walking, he saw a banner from the other side. It was black, white, purple, and it was the logo for Paynn Inc. The logo for Word's super company on a battle banner? None of this made sense. Beau and Artha stared at the charred standard as they walked past, and neither of them made a movement to pick it up.

It was later, and though they had now walked for a half hour, they saw no signs of life. It was if all crow-drags had disappeared and all the hydrags had moved out. Even after the battle field had ended and the familiar ruins of the Old City once again rose from the ground, the Old City remained dead.

"We should be coming to the drag-way in a bit," Artha said, referring to the drag-way they had used to follow Moordryd to the Shadow Track. There were the known statues and fallen pillars, and now just to walk around a crumbled building and the drag-way would be right ahead. Though, it would be if it weren't destroyed.

Beau stopped and stared at it dumbly. "Great," Artha said, "what else is destroyed?" Beau sighed and turned to a new destination, leaving behind the giant drag-way, now nearly completely demolished and completely unusable.

They trudged and wound their way through the Old City, heading for the southern drag-way, one of the biggest drag-ways leading into the city. There was a town around this drag-way; Artha would try to get some information from there.

Both bored and on edge, if both feelings were possible to be together, Beau yawned and wished for some sign, sound or even a track of some creature. The Old City was too deathly quiet. There were no sounds.

Beau's chin was inches above the ground as he walked with head low and distraught. He opened his eyes wide and grunted in exclamation as he saw a paw print belonging to a dragon. 'What is it?" Artha asked and looked. Before them were the fresh tracks of a bipedal dragon. "What dragon would be down here?" Artha asked, and then wished he hadn't.

A low growling came from before them, as if the dragon suddenly appeared to answer Artha's question. Artha and Beau looked ahead to see the tracks suddenly stop. Dust shifted as the invisible dragon moved its foot. "Great, wraith dragon."

The dragon roared at them and was answered by another from behind. "Great, two wraiths dragons. Come on, Beau, let's just outrun them."

Beau agreed. He wanted to run after simply walking for so long. He jumped into a sprint and dashed away from the now pursuing wraiths. They roared, one visible and one not, and snapped their jaws. Artha looked back and waved as Beau pulled away from them and left them behind in the maze of ruins.

Artha felt concerned. The wraiths hadn't really tried to keep up, which was unexpected, especially since he was wearing his Dragon Booster suit. Perhaps Word had better things to do with them.

Not too long after, Beau roared, signaling that they were nearing the town and the southern drag-way. A slight rise rose before them and Beau galloped to the top, which he immediately stopped and backed away from, nearly pitching Artha over the saddle in the sudden stop of speed.

Before the small hill blocked his view as they backed down the way they had come, Artha saw why Beau didn't want to go any further. He had caught a glimpse of the town, alive and bustling with humans and dragons. But the humans were cringing from their oppressors and hurrying about their business quickly. Their oppressors were wraith dragons, all of which had human wraiths. It seemed as though the wraiths had control of the town.

_And how could Captain Faier allow that if they didn't have control of Dragon City too? _Artha thought bleakly as Beau and he looked for cover. They didn't want to be seen by the wraiths. Artha's hope of finding his friends or discovering any sort of explanation for everything disappeared abruptly. It was replaced with the intense feeling that came around whenever he was lost and fearful. He hated that feeling.

They stopped and waited behind a pile of rocks, a perfectly hidden place behind old, twisted trees. Beau smiled up at Artha, raising his spirits a little.

"Well, what next?" Artha asked his dragon. Beau pointed his chin towards the town. Artha sighed. "I guess you're right. We need to find out what's happened."

He jumped down from the saddle and took the amulet out of his gauntlet, reverting to his normal self. "You stay here. I'll come back soon after I've found out what's happened. The wraiths look as if they're just guarding the humans. I'll blend in and come right back." Beau nodded as if to wish him good luck. Artha took a deep breath and crept out of the densely packed trees and made his way to infiltrate the town of wraiths. He wondered what he would find.


	13. Empire of Wraiths

**A/N: **Yay, I'm done another chapter! I introduce four OC's, which is two more than I had originally planned on. Review please! Tell me what you like and don't like. ;)

**Disclaimer: **I don't own DB.

* * *

_Empire of Wraiths_

Artha stood in the shadow of a building and watched the mildly busy streets, his racing pulse abating somewhat. He wiped a hand across his sweaty forehead. He hadn't needed to get so worried about walking in the town, it was rather easy. He blended in with the crowds, and hadn't created any sort of commotion or drawn any attention to himself. _I could really do this._ Artha thought, a stark contrast to his earlier thought of, _I'm gonna get caught and die…_

His only problem was perhaps acting _too_ casual, especially when one of the numerous patrolling wraiths in the streets passed close to him. Artha looked at a few wraiths on the other side of the street as he stood almost disbelievingly in the shadows, glaring without realizing it. Those wraiths shouldn't be here. No wraiths should ever be here. Wraiths should never exist. How could Faier let this happen? How could his Dad let them roam freely? Why hadn't he done something about it? Artha clenched his hands and shut his eyes tightly, forcing back a surprising flow of tears. How could _he_ have let this happen?

_I let them all down. Lance could be dead because of me._

Artha opened his eyes slightly and looked at the draconian street beneath his feet. What was going on? What was he supposed to do? There had been a battle, for dragon's sake! Right in front of the Shadow Track! _How long was I in there? What happened to the draconium Moordryd got out of the Shadow Track? Where is everyone? They wouldn't be in the city…_

Artha shook his head and pressed his fingers to his temples, as if that would make all his problems go away. He needed a plan.

"I need to know how long I was in there, what Word did, and I need to find Dad and the others," Artha whispered, still looking at the ground. All he needed to do was find out the answers to those questions, and then…well, he would be better off than he was right now. _Stupid wraiths. Once I get everything cleared up, I'm getting rid of every last one!_

As if reading Artha's thoughts, a dragon and human wraith on the other side of the street turned to look at him with vacant eyes. Artha happened just then to glance up and stare into those very eyes. He then quickly glanced back down again and trudged out onto the sidewalk quicky, head still down. He only glanced up to see where he was walking, hoping that he was not enough of a curiosity for the wraith to bother with. Artha only looked back once, and saw the disinterested wraith walking in the opposite direction.

Artha breathed out a heavy sigh of relief, and slowed down his pace. He couldn't risk getting caught in this crazy town. Crazy because the wraiths were obviously in control, and seemed to be the new Dragon City Security. The people didn't seem to care. They went about their lives normally, like Artha would've seen before he was trapped in the Shadow Track. A few months before? Anyway, besides the occasional wraith, always a combination of dragon and human, everything was normal.

Except for the dragons. The only dragons Artha had seen were the darkly colored wraiths. There were no others. _All_ the dragon were wraiths, whether they were being ridden by human wraiths or normal people.

Dragons and humans had to work together. What had Word Paynn done? How much has his views of his war changed? Did he have his own empire? Did he use his Payyn. Inc logo for that empire? It appeared on the wraiths like…like how the Down City crews wore their logos. Worse still, Artha had seen it on humans as well, assumedly of their own free will.

Artha wished he could personally paint over and burn every logo he saw. This wasn't right.

"Seems to me someone's a bit nervous around the wraiths."

Artha jumped in surprise as two men suddenly began walking beside him, grinning amusingly.

"Told you, Edd. He looks like he's from out of town." The man on his right leaned in close and said the last part in a low voice. Then his voice took on a mocking tone. "Where's your dear old mom? She stitch your name onto your jacket for you?"

Edd burst out laughing on Artha's left side. Artha clenched his fists, both incredibly angry and incredibly worried at the same time. Perhaps coming into town wasn't a good idea. He should've looked around the town first, or…or…Artha sighed. Or what? He felt tired, and the two men beside him helped none. They heightened his nervousness tremendously.

"What's the matter, kid? You look a little glum," Edd sneered in Artha's left ear.

Artha stared straight ahead and didn't respond. It was like an inner battle between his tiredness, his complete lack of knowledge and his will to find out where his family was. His doubts were beginning to win. Was he really that easy to pick out of the crowd? Was it really that easy to tell he was from out of town? Perhaps it was his clothes…he shouldn't have come into town!

"Hey, Edd. He's probably sad 'cause his mother is so bad at stitching. His name is backwards! What is it…Ar…th…"

Artha stopped abruptly, and the two men continued walking for a few steps before halting as well. "Don't you two have…something else to do?" Artha finished lamely. He feared if he said anything else, even more trouble would come of it.

"Ya mean besides helping you out?" Edd snickered. His friend folded his arms and leant against a lamp post. Artha noticed for the first time the Payyn Inc. logo on the sleeve of Edd's friend. Great.

"You aren't helping me out. Now I need to go." Artha made to walk around the two men, but Edd stood in front of him, blocking his way. He held his hands up almost apologetically.

"Ah, kid. Give me a break. We were only teasing you. We get some folk from the mountain towns once in a while, but not that often."

"I…uh…" _Mountain towns? _

"Me and Kyd here," Edd nodded briefly over to his friend, Kyd, who smiled at Artha. His smile was more of a leering grin, however. "We got nothing much to do here. So why don't you say you let us…show you around?"

Artha didn't trust Edd's confident voice, or Kyd's inability to stop chuckling. Edd turned his head and glared at Kyd, instantly shutting him up.

"That's okay. I don't need someone to show me around," Artha said. He found it slightly ironic. He _did_ need someone to show him around. He needed someone to tell him _everything_. But he didn't need these two men. They were nothing but trouble, and Artha knew they were only out to gain some amusement at his expense.

"You just came in, didn't you? You look like you're from the mountain towns."

"I am," Artha said on instinct. How good was his new alibi? Where were the mountain towns?

Artha held his breath, but when neither Edd nor Kyd made any sudden reactions to finally knowing that Artha was from one of the mountain towns, Artha felt he could relax somewhat. He guessed that people from the mountain towns were fairly common.

Edd grabbed Artha by the arm roughly. "We insist on showing you around."

"Let me go!"

"Or what?" Edd grinned in Artha's face as he pulled him along. Kyd grabbed Artha's other arm. "You're practically new here. What are you going to _do_, little whelp?"

Artha tried to think of a good reply. What _was_ he going to do? Edd and Kyd nearly dragged him along. They left the sidewalk, and crossed the street to the other side. Their steps were too confident. They knew what they were doing, and they knew where they were going. Artha knew nothing, and felt as helpless as a draco-slug in the middle of a huge race.

The wraiths paid him no heed, but a few people turned to look at them. _Yes, yes! _Artha thought inside. _Stop and ask them what they're doing to me. Distract them, just a little._

No one stopped to help. They turned back to whatever they were doing, and ignored Artha and his new friends. Edd and Kyd continued at a brisk pace, their thick hands hurting Artha's arms. Their grasps were too tight. But all he needed was a distraction.

Either that, or a stall full of cabbages. He could make a distraction out of that and use it to his advantage.

And they were going to walk right past it. Artha looked past the stand to where their current direction was taking them and where Edd and Kyd were looking at in earnest. A small, cramped alleyway. Artha swallowed. Were they going to rob him? Beat him for their amusement? Or maybe they knew he didn't belong here. What if they worked for Word? He had to get loose, now!

The cabbage stand was on his right, Artha's only chance of escape; nothing save his two captors was even close to him. A few more steps, and the only thing standing between the cabbages and him was Kyd. Then he immediately lashed out with his right foot, hitting Kyd behind the knees. Hard.

Kyd gave a yell of surprise, and at once fell to the ground, releasing Artha's arm. While his grip was gone, Edd's only tightened. Artha gasped from the pain.

"What'cha think you're doing? Hey, Kyd, get up! Now!"

As he spoke, his left hand swooped to grab Artha's other arm. With his right hand, he pulled Artha closer to him. Artha turned towards him, and instead of attempting to flee, like Edd expected, Artha came towards him, his right fist held high and ready.

Edd's left hand was halfway to Artha when Artha's right fist hit him in the face. Edd stumbled back, pulling Artha with him, never once loosening his grip. Then Artha felt Kyd, still on the ground, grab his left foot while grumbling through clenched teeth.

For a moment, Artha saw the other citizens of the town. But still, no one was interfering. Why weren't they? They should! He was being attacked by two grown men, why was no one helping? With his peripheral vision, Artha saw a wraith stalk smoothly towards them. Artha had to act quickly, or face a wraith.

Edd noticed the wraith too. He paused, debating whether he could talk his way out of this, or whether Kyd and he could get away with the kid, or whether they should just give up and run. Edd shook his head slightly. He had orders.

"Come here!" Edd seethed, and grabbed Artha's shoulder with his free hand.

Now this was where the cabbages came in. Artha spun, yanking himself out of Edd's grip and swinging his right leg over Kyd's head, who still had Artha left foot in his grasp. Artha's right foot hit the side of the poorly built cabbage stall, sending the green vegetables bouncing in the street.

Artha threw his body weight to the ground as Edd tried to regain his grip on Artha. However, Artha tripped over a cabbage, and fell to the street, dimly realizing the tight hold on his left lag had disappeared. Artha hit the ground the same time Edd did, and instantly sprang up and ran through the cabbages, careful not to trip over any, and sped away, shoving people aside.

"Scale it Kyd, run!"

Artha ran faster, fearful that they were chasing after him. When the amount of people in his way had dwindled somewhat, he chanced look behind. Edd and Kyd were gone, and he could see the top of the wraith near the cabbage stand, looking at him.

Artha ran faster, sped around corners, and down streets. He took too many turns to keep track of, and when he ran onto a particularly empty street, he slowed down.

The only other people on this street were a young couple, who glanced at him quickly, then dismissed him. Artha walked quickly in to the shadow of an alley, and sat down near the entrance and regained his breath.

His ears were fully alert for any sound of pursuit. He heard none. Artha realized he hadn't heard any sort of pursuit while he was running either. Perhaps the wraith had chosen to chase after the men instead of him.

Artha sat with his legs drawn up, and hung his head between them, looking at the street, breathing heavily. For awhile, he sat like that, and didn't think.

Only when his breathing steadied, did he raise his head and wipe his face with his hands. He groaned slightly as he lifted his arms, knowing full well that he must have some dreadful bruises on them.

"Well…," Artha said to himself slowly. "Maybe I can go back now." Back to Beau, and back to safety.

He stood and brushed himself off, and looked hesitantly into the street. Artha froze as he saw a wraith down at the far end, but the wraith soon disappeared down another street. Artha breathed a sigh of relief. The wraith must've walked right by him. Did that mean he wasn't being chased? Artha held desperately onto that thin strand of hope.

He took a step into the street, and saw only eight other people, as withdrawn and minding their own business as everyone else had been. Except Edd and Kyd. Artha hoped they had gotten caught.

"I can't go back," Artha whispered, standing dismally at the mouth of the alley. "I didn't find anything out yet." _And I would only have to come here again, either here or another town. Or maybe into Dragon City itself. I can't go back with nothing. I have to have something to tell Beau. _"And I'm here now."

Artha thought his voice sounded darkly foreboding.

----------

It was just what he had wanted to find. A place he could sit and hear other people's conversations without appearing to eavesdrop. A place where there were VIDDscreens and food. Manga Draconis, Artha was hungry. He had a bit of food, back with Beau, who might've eaten the rest by now. The aroma inside was tantalizing. So Artha walked into the small inn he had found. The Dragon's Fulfillment, it was called. Artha hoped to be fulfilled with food and information.

He stepped inside, and didn't feel at all different from everyone else. The place seemed homely, like Penn Stables.

"Good day!"

Artha paused and looked around for the owner of the cheerful voice. He saw her wave her hand at him, and brush past several people to squeeze his own hand in a friendly shake. "Welcome to my inn."

Artha smiled back at her. She seemed a blessed relief from the other, dullish citizens in the town, but on careful scrutiny, her smile and outward appearance appeared somewhat false, as if she were only using it to cover up her own sadness. It was like trying to hide broccoli in a glass of milk. It didn't quite work.

Her fake smile was plastered to her face as she continued. "Would you like to sit down, have a room for the upcoming night, or…"

"I, I'll just sit and eat," Arth stammered, slightly put off by her false presentation.

"Very well then. Follow me." Her head bobbed up and down, shaking her graying hair as she turned.

Only then did she release her welcoming grasp and motioned him to follow her with her sweaty hand. Artha followed, wiping his hand on his pants. She led him into the dining area, which was right by the entrance and provided several windows looking out at the nearly empty street. It was quite full, and buzzed with the low murmur of conversation. The place smelled like…food, delicious food. Artha's stomach growled.

"Feel free to sit where you choose," Artha and she stood, overlooking the room, "and someone will be by shortly to serve you. If you need me, call for Mrs. Chabox." She clasped her hands in front, wringing her skirt; whether it was in nervousness, or a habit she had, Artha had no idea. But it made him feel more apprehensive than he already was.

She gave a last gracious look at him, as if thanking him for choosing her inn. Then she turned and bustled away, hands full of her skirt, her smile never once touching her eyes. Artha wondered whether everyone in the town, and in the towering Dragon City above, were like her; living their lives under an oppressive ruler, disgruntled at how everything was turning out.

Which was actually good news for him, Artha thought. Were they more likely to follow the Dragon Booster?

Artha slid into a seat at a bare, greenish-gray table, close to another group of customers. He would be able to hear what they were saying without straining too much. He needed to know so much. Artha crossed his arms and laid them on the table, looked around briefly, then focused his attention on the small VIDDscreen in the far corner of the room after he realized the trio at the table next to his were talking about the weather, of all things.

Artha sighed and peered closely at it, then gave up when he realized it was some day time drama. Why wasn't it on the news?

Artha began tapping his fingers on the table, then stopped. _Calm down, I'm almost there. All I have to do is find out what happened, and what happened to my father._

What better way to find out than to converge in some conversation? If only the people at the table next to his didn't glare over at him on occasion.

"What do you want?"

Artha nearly jumped as a surly waitress stopped by his table. She stood irritably and tapped her electronic pad against her side, staring him down. Artha put on a cheesy smile, just for her. "Well…I haven't looked at a menu yet, but…"

"Why don't you have the special?"

"I…guess. What's in it?"

"It's a surprise."

"A surprise?"

"What's the matter? Don't like surprises?"

"Well, not if I'm going to eat it."

The corner of her mouth lifted in amusement, but she said nothing immediately. She took her time adding Artha's order to her pad, the soft clicking of buttons that he could hear plainly. "Don't worry," she said suddenly, catching him off guard. "It's edible."

"That's good," Artha blurted out.

"Of course it is." She shifted her weight, looked at him like he were an idiot, then began to walk off.

"Oh, wait," Artha said quickly. When she turned exasperatingly to him, Artha leaned on the table and grinned at her, trying to be friendly. "So, what's your name?"

She frowned at him. "I don't do dates, creep."

"No, I…"

Rolling her eyes, she ignored his protest and hurriedly headed to the kitchen, leaving Artha with his mouth hanging half open. Artha sighed and put his head in his hands. Talking to people wasn't really working out for him.

He didn't look like a creep, did he? He didn't think he did. He glanced over to the table near his, and the trio there pointedly ignored him. Watching the VIDDscreen might help him more than talking would anyway, and he wouldn't have to risk anything by asking question after question.

"_Here's a look at what's coming up next in Dragon City news."_

It was as if the VIDDscreen forced his eyes to stare at it, unblinking. A preview to the evening's news. Artha was mildly surprised that the wraiths weren't the news anchors, but as he watched, his eager smile soon changed into a disbelieving gape as a quick preview turned into a nightmare loosed into reality.

"_Rising trouble in the north. Has the Black Empire gone from vicious to downright bloodthirsty? Continued fighting in the east. When will it end? And more raids on Paynn's wraiths. Just how braver and more devastating are they becoming? Also, the victims of last week's brawl are finally in court. Only Dragon City News has the latest news here, and out there. This advertisement has been brought to you by the Paynn Empire, protecting you and your families for fifteen long years."_

Artha found himself gripping the sides of the table with white knuckles. Black Empire? Paynn Empire? Fifteen years? _Protecting_?

Artha stared at the VIDDscreen, and even though the normal program had returned, the images were still replaying in his mind. There had been ravaged battlegrounds, wraiths fighting against soldiers, a lethal looking Dragon Eye symbol on a high flying banner, more military images, and two people being led by human wraiths into a courthouse of some kind. Artha recognized Edd, covering his face and disappearing shackled into the building. And finally, Word Paynn's corporate logo to finish it all off.

Artha sat stunned, and barely had time to fully digest everything when the waitress came back with a steaming plate of meat and other things. Artha didn't take time in looking at it to see what was on it. He was still staring at the VIDDscreen.

"Hungry? Well, here it is. Ta da." The last words couldn't have been said with less emotion or enthusiasm. The waitress plucked down the plate in front of him, causing the food to shift and move around distastefully.

Her coy grin was lost on him as he stared into his plate. Food. He picked up a fork and shoveled meat into his mouth. _There isn't a war. It's only been a few months. My father…_

The waitress watched him eat silently for a few moments. "…Like it?" Artha didn't respond, or even indicate that he had heard her. He just kept eating. He was hungry.

_It can't have been too long. Nothing happened. I'll see Lance soon. And…and Kitt and Parm…it hasn't been fifteen years. It hasn't! It couldn't have been!_

The waitress put a hand on her hip and continued to watch him eat, an almost annoyed expression on her face. First he wanted to talk, and now he was ignoring her? "You seem to like it. It's specially imported from the east. Want to know what's in the surprise?"

Artha continued eating, his hand beginning to shake as he lifted forkfuls of meat to his mouth. He felt empty, as if he couldn't possibly think of anything else besides his unbelieving ramblings. _It's not possible. I'm not…I haven't been…it hasn't been that long. It…_

"It's blue dragon, you know, since the Blue Empire has finally fallen."

Artha's fork dropped to the plate, and he slowly turned his head to look at her, broken out of his little stupor. He swallowed. "This is…I'm eating dragon?"

She nodded her head. "Yep. Good, isn't it? Better than green dragons anyway."

"A DRAGON? You eat dragons now?" Artha yelled and stood up quickly, bumping his table and sending his food, the dragon, to the floor. The plate cracked loudly into several pieces, and the _dragon_ fell wetly on the ground. He didn't notice. He was busy glaring at the waitress, as if all this was her fault. "You people eat dragons?" He yelled, louder this time. What kind of barbaric world was he in? Artha felt his anger rising steadily. Eat dragons? How could they do that! How could anyone?

"Yes…don't get upset. It's just meat. It's only dragon," the waitress stammered slightly, then narrowed her eyes. "It's not like it's a human or anything."

Artha heard her voice, though it sounded far away. How could his father let the world get like this? "Not human?" He repeated quietly, though he felt like screaming at them all. Of course they weren't humans, but they were equals! "NOT HUMAN?" Artha screamed at the waitress, glaring at her and letting out all his emotions. He shouldn't be here. It couldn't be fifteen years in the future! What about his brother? His Dad? Were they still alive? Artha gritted his teeth, and the waitress stepped back slightly, looking around for help to calm the unruly patron. What about Kitt and Parm and everyone else? Were Moordryd and Word laughing in his citadel, relishing in their victory? Was everyone fifteen years older than him?

"I can't believe you people eat dragons, like…like they're some other kind of meat!" Artha said, shutting his moist eyes. This couldn't be happening to him. It was a nightmare…no, he was still in the Shadow Track. He had to be. It was all so unreal. "They're our equals! What about your drago…"

Artha trailed off, and remembered that the only dragons he had seen were wraiths. Were there no free dragons left in the world?

Blinking furiously, Artha wiped at his eyes, and noticed for the first time the whole inn staring at him, and dimly remembered that he had to keep a low profile. The waitress stared at him.

"I'm…sorry…" Artha mumbled instinctively, and turned to leave.

He took a few steps towards the door when he saw Ms. Chabox standing there. He had forgotten to pay. Artha thrust his hand into his pocket, and threw a random amount of drakkals onto the floor, then flew out the door and down the street, as fast as his legs would carry him. He needed to get back to Beau. He felt stronger with him near, and not vulnerable like he did now. He couldn't hear the waitress's angered remarks of how the drakkals were outdated.

He pushed past people on the street. They all stared at him, but Artha ignored them.

A young girl glared at his fleeing back as he shoved his way past her. "Idiot," she mumbled. She tightened her grip on the hand of a six-year-old boy. "Walk faster," she instructed. His steps increased, but he didn't look up from the ground he was quietly staring at.

She entered the inn, the very same inn Artha had just ran from, and noticed the uproar. She grinned as she saw a waitress picking up shards of plate and pieces of meat. Walking up to her, and being trailed by the little boy, she grinned at the waitress. "Finally doing some work?"

The waitress looked up and brushed hair from her eyes. "Shut up, Delilah. I work."

Delilah rolled her eyes. "You do? I haven't noticed."

"That's because you're never here. Where were you again? Forget it, you're not going to tell me."

"I was at the market."

"More like the mall. It's your shift now anyway." The waitress stood up from the floor and threw a towel at Delilah. "My shift's over. Have fun."

Delilah picked the towel up from over her head, where it had so carefully been placed. "What happened? I'm not cleaning something you dropped."

"You won't believe it," the waitress said. "Some creep from the…the mountain towns probably, freaked out when he found out he was eating blue dragon. Then he yelled at me."

"From the…mountain towns? We haven't gotten any of them here for a long while," Delilah said, grinning.

The waitress stared at her. "Well, we do now."

"Where'd he go?" Delilah said quickly.

"Why do you want to know?" The waitress look at her suspiciously. "Why are you always so interested in people from the stupid mountain towns?"

Delilah shrugged. "I…find them interesting."

"Interestingly weird. He ran that way." She cocked a finger in the direction Artha had taken.

"Drac." Delilah breathed and dragged the little by after her out the door. "Run, Covert."

Covert, the little boy, picked up his speed and ran as fast as he felt like beside her. Delilah looked forward in anticipation.

"Where are you going? It's your shift!"

----------

Artha stumbled through the brush, shoving dead branches out of his way. Where did he leave Beau? "Beau? Beau?"

Artha stopped as he heard a roar to his right, and presently Beau's head poked out from behind a rock. "Beau!"

Artha ran to his side, and gave Beau a hug around the neck. Beau's former excited attitude turned to one of worry. With a questioning grunt, he looked at Artha quizzically. Artha pulled away and looked up at him.

"Beau, you…you won't believe it…"

Beau nudged Artha with is head. Artha took a deep breath. "We've been in the Shadow Track for…a long time, Beau. Fifteen years. Word has control of the city…he has a lot of wraiths…I don't think my Dad is in there. We have to find him. I don't know where he is."

Artha's voice fell on a surprised dragon, who only stared back at him. The wind grazed Artha's ears as he looked at Beau, then dropped his head, unable to stare his dragon in the eye. All this was his fault. Did Beau even believe him?

Beau gave Artha a small grin, reminding him that they were in this together, and always would be. Artha stroked his chin. "Beau…I'm sorry." Beau grunted softly, telling him it was alright. Artha smiled back.

A sudden breaking in the brush caused them both to snap their heads up quickly. "Who?" Artha began, then turned to Beau. "Hide, you have to hide! You aren't a wraith!" Beau backed up a few steps, then stopped, slightly unsure of what was actually happening. "Go!"

As Beau quickly bounded away in the trees and past more boulders, Artha looked around quickly. The noise in the brush was too small for it to be a wraith dragon. Was it a human wraith? Artha saw a clump of trees he could hide behind, but had no time. Already the person, actually, two people, were upon him.

"I…uh…who are you?" Artha stumbled, surprised.

The teenage girl, about fourteen, maybe fifteen, looked up at him with a relieved expression on her face. She smiled in a friendly manner, though it seemed slightly forced. "I'm Delilah. This is my nephew, Covert." She waved the extremely light grey haired boy's hand around, and he looked at Artha with a blank expression.

"Okay…what are you doing here? Did you follow me?" Artha demanded of them.

Delilah smiled sheepishly. "Well…yes."

Artha stared them down, scrutinizing them. They didn't look harmless. The girl had a somewhat sneaky feel about her, but she smiled innocently at him. The boy, Covert, looked around himself quietly. He wasn't a threat at all. They both wore packs on their backs, heavily loaded with…things. Artha wondered whether they were going on a trip, or whether they had weapons and wraith gear in them. Then he shook his head. He was getting paranoid.

"Why?"

Delilah shrugged slightly. "I heard about the racket you made in the inn. You know, the Dragon's Fulfillment?"

Artha rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah…" Where was this going? Why couldn't he have stayed quiet?

"Well…and you're from the towns in the mountains, right?"

"Yeah…"

Delilah suddenly smiled at him. "You don't like eating dragon." Artha looked at her warily. "I think that's great. I hate eating dragon too."

Artha felt his tension abating. "Really?"

Delilah nodded her head. "I won't let Covert eat it either. It's…I think dragons are…they shouldn't be our slaves. And you, obviously, think the same way. Correct?"

"Yes, I do!" Artha said, growing excited. "You don't like all the wraiths? You think dragon and humans should be equal?"

Delilah paused for a second, then nodded her head. "I think it'd be cool to know a dragon who's not a wraith."

"You've never met a real…free dragon before?"

She shook her head. "They're all wraiths in the Paynn Empire. I've been looking for someone who felt the same way I did."

"Really?" Artha asked. How far could he trust her? He barely suppressed his growing elation. Had he just found someone whom he could find out answers from?

"You're going to go to the Gold Empire, right? I think fighting against the Paynn Empire is the way to start."

"The…Gold Empire?" Artha breathed. It sounded like a drop of rain after years of famine, like a crackling fire in the middle of the coldest winter, like…like…hope. And if that didn't sound cheesy enough, then it sounded like home too. The Gold Empire. Was that where his Dad and friends were? Artha smiled. They had to be.

Delilah noticed his somewhat vacant stare. "Er…yes…."

Artha blinked and tore himself away from his little daydream. "Who's in the Gold Empire? Where are they? How far are th…"

Delilah held up a hand. "Firstly, I'm not sure who's all in the empire, but the Dragon Priests are, I have a general idea of where they are, and it might take us…weeks, a month, to get there. More if we're forced to hide from wraiths and other…people and dragons, which we might have to."

"Weeks?" Artha spluttered. "Then we should go now. We have to get there soon!"

Delilah looked at him with narrowed eyes. "You're very eager, aren't you?"

"I just think that we shouldn't waste any time." Artha twisted his hands together behind his back. There he went again, being too obvious. First in the inn, and now here. Artha wasn't even sure how far he could trust Delilah.

Delilah nodded her head so slightly that Artha almost missed the movement. "I guess." Delilah tightened her grip on Covert's hand, who was picking leaves off low hanging branches. "But I hardly see how a few minutes are going to kill us. Come on. Since we've only got a general direction, it'll be a long, long walk. We'll stop by a small village and get some supplies for you."

"Delilah?" Artha said quietly, stopping her from walking away.

"What?"

"Isn't going to the Gold Empire a…big risk? If someone found out…"

Delilah studied him. "Yes, it is. But I've waited too long. I have to take the risk. And…I'm trusting you won't tell."

"I won't. I have to trust that you won't tell either."

Delilah smirked at him. "Not a chance. I've got Covert to think about too. I guess we're both depending on blind faith here."

"I guess so." Artha relaxed somewhat, hoping beyond all belief that he really could trust her. But why couldn't he? She hadn't done anything yet. It was a great advantage for him to have someone with the same goals as he, traveling with him so he wouldn't get lost. Things were going to be alright. He would find his Dad soon.

"Artha?"

"Wh…how did you know my name? I haven't told…"

"You've got it stitched on the back of your jacket. Backwards, for some reason."

Artha glanced at his back quickly, then grinned sheepishly. "Oh, right."

"Artha, you…don't seem to know as much as I expected you might. I know people from the mountain towns are somewhat cut off from the rest of the world…but you're very…oblivious to everything."

"I lived in a…very…remote…town…"

Delilah gave him a careful look, then accepted his answer with a small shrug. "I suppose that makes…some sense." She brushed her shoulder length hair out of her eyes, then bent down and told Covert to stop fiddling around, that they had to go.

"You're really walking the entire way?" Artha asked as she turned.

She looked back at Artha, slightly amused. "What else do you plan on using? Wraiths are to dangerous to sue, they have tracking devices fitted onto them. You planning on flying?"

"Not quite," Artha mumbled, then he spoke louder to Delilah. "I have something we might be able to use. I think you'll like it." Artha grinned and turned to the deep forest behind him. "Beau?"

Delilah looked questionably at Artha's back until Beau stuck his head around a boulder, looking at Artha with a "Did you call me?" type of expression on his own face. Artha was pleased to see Delilah gasp in complete surprise. Covert grinned and ran to Beau and threw his arms around Beau's leg, laughing at the colorful dragon.

Artha gave Delilah a knowing, slightly smug grin. "I have a feeling that we'll make better time now."

"You…have a…a dragon…" Delilah gasped. Artha crossed his arms and grinned even wider. Delilah suddenly scowled. "How did you get a dragon? Where's the wraith gear? Did you take it off?"

"No," Artha said, slightly taken aback by her sudden harsh voice. "I…Beau came from the mountain towns with me."

"They have free dragons in the mountain towns? Since when?"

"Beau was raised secretly by my father," Artha said, which was kind of true. Delilah shook her head in disbelief.

"I didn't think…"

"Why is it so unbelievable for a free dragon to be in the mountain towns?" Artha shot back.

"Don't you know? You're from there."

"Umm, yeah," Artha said, and suddenly found the dirt beneath his shoes very interesting.

Delilah peered at him. "If I were you, I'd be careful. You've already caused a huge stir. If you don't know what's going on in the Paynn Empire, then step lightly. I'll help you if I can."

Artha turned to Beau, and murmured softly, "thanks." He needed all the help he could get.

Delilah smiled faintly at his back, then approached Beau. "Covert," she scolded the little boy, "stop petting the dragon so much. We've got to go."

Covert whined as Delilah picked him up. It was the first time Artha had heard so much as a peep from the kid. Delilah strained with holding Covert and his pack, so she looked over at Artha. "So the dragon does what you say? I've only ridden wraiths before." She trailed off, slightly unsure of herself.

"Yeah, Beau's great. Just jump on his back there. Or here, Beau will mag you."

Beau grinned, winked at Delilah, which Covert found hilarious, then lifted them up with a mag-pull and dropped them on his back. Delilah grabbed the pedals of Artha's saddle to keep her balance.

Artha jumped onto the saddle. "So how do you like non-wraiths?"

Delilah glanced up at him quickly and seized Covert with one hand to keep him from falling. "Pretty good."

Artha slammed his helmet onto his head and gripped the handles tightly. He still had a lot to do.

"The Gold Empire is in the east. We'll have to find someone who knows where they are better than us. Because I have no idea."

"Alright. Let's go boy."

"Artha? East is the other way."

----------

The inside of the citadel was dark and cold. The harsh lights illuminated the predominant feature, the vibrant control center, in a menacing manner. Edd had heard that it was the most advanced piece of technology in the entire world, but had never fully grasped that meaning. Until now.

Piled up high against the walls and covering every square inch of free space were computers, sleek and highly powerful. Humming with the control of an Empire, they rose high above his head. But even all the potent machines were nothing in comparison to the dark throne that sat in the middle.

Edd walked forward slowly, followed by Kyd, who peered around with wary eyes. He had never met Word Paynn before. Edd had, though it hadn't been in the famed citadel. Word had always made him uneasy. He was the most powerful man in the world, and could have them killed with a flip of his hand.

"I wonder," said Word Paynn, sitting in his throne, back turned to them. Edd and Kyd stopped where they were. "Why I keep in my employs two idiots who do nothing of value?"

Edd remember the brawl he had caused and bowed his head slightly out of habit. "Sir, I can explain…"

"I do not need you to," Word replied smoothly. Edd scowled. "Your service for me is ended. You two will be seen out. There are others, more capable, of carrying out my wishes."

Word raised his clawed hand and waved a finger, signaling that this meeting was over and was not important enough to acquire more of his attention, and to beckon four human wraiths to advance upon the two men. Edd felt a surge of dread. He could kill them with a wave of his hand. Edd knew Word Paynn wasn't about to be kind to them and let them off. Edd envisioned jail, or worse, yet more probable, death. Word couldn't have two men like them walk around. Even with the little they knew, Word was best off to have them both finished off. It was safer, and war was such a risky business.

A wraith reached for his arm, but Edd yanked it away and took a few pleading steps towards the throne. Kyd was grabbed by two wraiths and stood shaking. "Sir," Edd said, and continued to make his way to the throne while keeping out of reach of the wraiths. "We've only messed up once. Give us one more chance. We've found someone from the mountain towns who…"

"Yes, yes. Another from the secluded towns. Another who doesn't agree with the war. Another who may cause a little stir before they're dealt with. Is this worth my attention?" Word asked callously.

"But this kid, he's strange. And I've received some information that he intends to go to the Gold Empire." Word fell silent, and Edd hurried on. "Let us follow him. We'll relay back to you the _exact_ location of the Empire." Kyd nodded his head vigorously, eager for the wraiths to back off.

When Edd stopped talking, the long silence filled the room. Even the machines and computers seemed to have gone quiet. At length, the throne turned and Word Paynn faced them, fingering his amulet, an unreadable expression on his face. Then he grinned.

"I know the Empire is currently in the east. Somewhere." Word paused, and then motioned for the wraiths to back off. "Do follow them. I want to find the Empire." Word leaned forward and spoke the last slowly while staring into Edd's eyes, his own cold and murderous. "I want the empire destroyed."


	14. The Black Omen

**A/N:** Sorry about the long wait for this chapter, but here it finally is! Don't hold your breath for the next chapter though, it won't be coming too quickly.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dragon Booster.

* * *

_The Black Omen_

Artha sighed and nudged Delilah in the back, looking warily at the door of the shop. "We should go now."

Delilah sighed and turned to look at him from where she had been leaning her elbows on the counter, waiting for supplies. "You said that ten minutes ago, and nothing's happened."

"I just don't want to get caught. We've been here too long."

Delilah looked him over, as if to judge whether his nervousness was cowardice, or whether he had a point. "You're right," she relented, getting edgy herself the longer they stayed. "After we get the food here, we should be okay until we reach the next town."

Artha breathed a sigh of relief and glanced past Delilah to see if the shop keeper had come back yet. Delilah grinned at him.

"How can you be so calm?" Artha asked rather pointedly.

"Relax. The wraiths haven't caught us yet."

"But they're walking by the store more and more. They've seen us in here."

"You're such a worry-newt, you know that?"

"I just…can't get caught," Artha whispered back, the statement having more truth than Delilah would ever know.

Delilah, Covert and he were in a small town quite close to Dragon City. Too close for Artha's tastes, but Delilah had insisted that they needed to stop for supplies before going any further, which was true. The ride to this town took nearly the rest of the day, and both Artha and Delilah were wondering whether they would make it before dark. Because, as Delilah explained, once you were found wandering the streets at dark, wraiths were surely to ask for your papers. Which Artha didn't have, and which Delilah couldn't risk either. She had left the inn where she worked at in quite a hurry, and her boss was surely to be looking for her…

"Watch Covert!" Delilah hissed at him in a friendly sort of way, which Artha wasn't sure was possible up to now. The clerk came and dropped quite a bit of food and supplies on the desk, no doubt wondering why so much was needed. Which was another reason why they had to leave the town quickly. They were raising suspicion.

While Delilah tried to haggle the price without wasting too mush of their precious time, Artha looked for Covert. Delilah hadn't wanted to keep him with Beau, hiding in the ruins. She didn't quite trust Beau.

Artha didn't understand it; Beau was the nicest dragon he knew. But apparently Delilah had been brought up with the philosophy that dragons were killers and could only be restrained with wraith gear, which was what they deserved. All in all, it was beyond Artha's comprehension as to how anyone could believe such nonsense. He personally planned to have her mind fully changed before they reached the Gold Empire.

Artha quickly glanced down the aisles, looking for a young boy with grey hair. Wiping his sweaty hands against his pants, he did suppose he was overly nervous. No one knew they were looking for the Gold Empire, and they still had a few hours before nightfall. A few hours where they could still leave the town without being suspicious to the point of utmost scrutiny.

However, even though the likelihood of them being caught seemed rather low, Artha was worried, and nothing would help. He was in a strange world with new rules, his only real friend was Beau, he had no idea what state the world was in, or if his friends were alive or dead, or whether things would be like they used to. They were all fifteen years older.

Artha looked down an aisle and grinned when he saw Covert's small head closely inspecting a cage full of newts, which were staring at the strange little boy and continuously shooting their tongues out at him which got stuck to the edge of the cage. A few other kids, around the same age as Covert, were watching and either laughing or giggling.

As Artha approached Covert, the boy looked up, the huge grin sliding from his face. "C'mon, we're leaving soon," Artha said, and Covert obediently headed to the counter, not once making a noise of any sort. Artha took one last look at the newts, then followed.

----------

A glance back with amazing timing allowed Artha to see the last of the warm lights of the town twinkle before the hills obstructed his view. Even full of wraiths, Artha was beginning to find that he would have actually liked to stay in town, as opposed to the opposite. He looked ahead, to where Delilah assured him they would not meet another town for a long, long time. Behind him was the fading light, and before him, darkness, where there was nothing he could trust. He was leaping before he looked.

He heard Delilah, sitting on Beau's back, talking to Covert about random things. Covert listened silently, and Artha was beginning to wonder whether he was a mute.

Beau looked up at Artha, and realizing where his attention was, yawned to bring it back to himself.

Artha looked down at Beau, grinning. Full night had fallen earlier than Artha had expected, and he too, was tired. "Er, Delilah, do you think it's time we…"

"No."

"What? You don't even know what I was going to-"

"Say? You want to curl up under a rock and go to sleep. But we can't, so no."

Artha sighed irritably and looked back at her, where she cast him a superior grin. "Why not? I'm tired."

"It's not that late. We need to put as much distance as we can between us and the town. Wraiths patrol closely to the towns."

Artha grimaced, then turned to the front and had the biggest urge to cross his arms and pout. He stifled a yawn and glared ahead into the darkness, where the only sound was of Beau walking, and presently, little Covert's snoring as he sat in front of Delilah, leaned against her and slept.

Artha scratched the back of his neck as the minutes passed, deep in thought. He needed to know what was going on, how they could even start looking for the Gold Empire, and make up a story about himself that would be believable. A few times Artha had almost turned and asked Delilah, but both times he stopped. He needed a good story to fool her. He only wished he knew for certain whether he could trust her or not.

----------

Delilah, after scanning the surrounding layers of rocks, boulders, forgotten ruins, dirt, dust and more rocks, looked at Artha's back curiously. "Artha."

He jumped at the sudden loud voice in the otherwise dead silence. Turning around, he peered at her face in the dark gloom. "What?"

"Well, I figured, since we're going to be traveling together for a while, that we might try to get to know each other a bit more."

"Oh…right. Good."

"Tell me," Delilah said quickly before Artha could ask a question first, "tell me about your life before coming here. I'm interested to know about the free dragons up there in the mountains. Are there many?"

Artha wet his lips, looking apprehensive. "Well…I lived in a small village. Really small, uh, up in the mountains."

"Uh-huh."

"And, well, my father he likes dragons…which was where I first got interested in dragons and the idea of a free empire. Well, we…didn't get news of the…rest of the world very often. Because our town was very secluded…and stuff. So my dad was able to have a few…free dragons without worrying about wraiths or anyone else finding out."

"Really," Delilah mused. "So your dad…"

"Um," Artha paused, and for a moment, Delilah wondered whether she had touched on a sore subject for him. Noticing her look, Artha said quickly, "He's…gone. Something happened and he disappeared. I mean, he…some people found out about the, er, free dragons we had and came and burnt down the stables. My dad disappeared, and I think he…I think he went to the Gold Empire. Actually, he left me a note saying he did. So that's one reason why I really want to find it. To find my dad and, well, Beau here is the only dragon that made it out of the stables…alive."

Delilah sat straight up, almost causing Covert to wake. "Wow. I…so you're trying to find your dad? That's…that's really…nice. That you would venture down here and risk your life to find him."

"Well," Artha said, shrugging, highly relieved Delilah apparently believed him. "He'd do the same for me." He grinned at her with such a hopeful look in his eyes that Delilah looked away, her own eyes strangely saddened.

"What," Artha asked hesitantly, "What about you?"

Delilah looked back at him. "Oh, it's nothing special. I lived with my parents in Dragon City, well, not in the city itself. Close by the inn. Lived there my whole life. My parents were…um, they were fond believers in the whole Paynn Empire. I don't know where I really got the idea to reject that idea, but I just knew, I guess, that it was wrong. I've only seen a dragon without wraith gear only once, besides Beau here. It was…I don't know, not as stupid as everyone else said dragons were." Delilah shrugged. "I began to realize it was wrong to tamper with their minds, even though everyone else said they deserved it. I wasn't going to do anything about it, but then you came, and I just…followed."

Artha flashed a warm smile at her, evidently pleased with himself that he had come at the right place at the right time. Delilah found it utterly impossible not to smile back. Artha looked down at Covert. "What about him? You said he was your…"

"Nephew. My older brother died, and so did his wife. So Covert was left with us."

"Is he…is he a mute?"

"Yes. His whole life."

"Oh," Artha said, not quite sure of what else to say to that. He turned back to the front, and for the moment, the conversation died down. Delilah relaxed as much as she could on Beau's back without relaxing too much to the point of falling off, but Artha and Beau remained tense.

Artha, encouraged by their talk so far, prepared himself to ask what was really thriving on his mind ever since he had left the Shadow Track, and by some burst of genius, (or was it luck?) he had managed to create a story that he thought would help him ask those questions.

He turned around again, and Delilah looked up at him, swaying side to side on Beau's broad back. "Delilah," Artha said. "I've grown up in the mountains, pretty cut off from the rest of the world." At Delilah's nodding, Artha continued. "Really, really cut off. I don't know…I mean, I'm not sure what exactly happened, since the war started. I've-I've only gotten little facts and I think they might be wrong…so…"

Delilah chuckled and stared up at the dark sky. "You want me to give you a little history lesson?" Artha nodded almost sheepishly. "Sure. I mean, you'll have to know what really happened."

"I don't even know what's happening now. Tell me everything."

Artha turned fully around in the saddle so he was facing Delilah. Beau eagerly listened. And Delilah began.

"Well, The Paynn Empire…"

"No, no, no. From the very beginning. You know…when the Dragon Booster disappeared."

"From then? Okay. Well," Delilah said, "The Dragon Booster disappeared about when I was born, and on that same day the Paynn Empire was created."

"What?" Artha said. "On the same day? When the Dragon Booster was trapped in the Shadow Track?"

Delilah nodded. "It was, you have to admit, a great plan by Word Paynn…you know who he is?"

"Yes. What plan?" Artha asked quickly, leaning forward in growing excitement and horror.

Delilah grinned at him. "Really smart plan. He got rid of the only person who could have had a decent chance of stopping him, or so they say." At a look from Artha which said, tell-me-everything-and-don't-leave-a-thing-out-no-matter-how-unimportant-you-may-think-it-is, she continued on again in a straight voice, now growing serious.

"I think it was his son that lured the Dragon Booster into the Shadow Track to trap him there. He destroyed the entrance so even if the Dragon Booster defeated his fears, he could never get out." Delilah's tone of voice when she mentioned the Dragon Booster defeating his fears made it clear that she thought nothing of the kind would happen.

"So after having put wraith gear in all his gear, he made nearly all dragons and humans into his wraiths. That's how his empire rose, and after this, there came the Years of War. The first battle of the Years of War was begun by Propheci, when the memory of what Word Paynn had done to their kind was still fresh in their minds."

"But…from what you've said, Word made both dragons and humans wraiths," Artha said.

"Yes, but he didn't keep the humans wraiths for long. When he had proper control of everything, he let them go. Nowadays all human wraiths are criminals. Becoming wraiths is a punishment…which is what we might become if we're caught." Delilah gave a light laugh, the mere mention of becoming a wraith obviously something that scared her. Artha didn't blame her. That was one experience he'd rather not go through again.

"Keep going," he said. "Be very, very precise."

Delilah sighed as her hollow laughter died away against the pressing silence around them. "Let's see, anyway, Propheci launched a full scale war against the city. But they lost. Not that it really mattered. After that many more dragons joined their cause. After that… the Prophets didn't attack or fight openly for a while. While the rest of the world was content in open battles against each other, they secretly attacked and gained even more dragons under their control. During this time, while all the empires were at each others throats-"

"What?" Artha interrupted. "Why? Word Paynn is the one they should all be fighting against. Not each other." He left unsaid what was really bothering him. They were all fighting each other? Who was trying to rescue him during all that time?

Delilah mused for a while, trying to remember all the facts. "Well, they did. The Dragon Priests followed the refugees from Dragon City-"

"Were there a lot?"

"Quite a few, now shut up. In Wind City, they had a conference when all the other refugees from the other cities were able to get there, if they were able to. You see, Word Paynn had millions of wraiths. They had…considerably less. Many didn't want to go fight on a full-scale battle. They would be slaughtered."

"Didn't they want to try and help the Dragon booster?"

"Yes. But, you see, the Shadow Track was guarded extremely well."

Artha fell silent and overcome. How could he have expected them to help? With millions of wraiths under his control, how could anyone even get close to freeing him? Suddenly, Artha's heart turned to ice. What if Lance, Kitt and Parm tried to free him during that time? What if they had died?

"Delilah," he said in a chocked voice.

She looked at him questionably. "What?"

"Did…do…when did they try to free the Dragon Booster? Was…were they killed…those who tried to help, I mean."

"Oh, they did try. They…let's see, they scouted the area first, realized it was too dangerous, and didn't try until it was in their favour. I mean, who would blindly rush in to free one person? It's not like the whole war rested on his shoulders."

"What?"

"The Dragon Booster, he's just a kid in a suit. What could he do? If you ask me, I'm glad they forgot about it and went on. One person won't change anything."

"What…the Dragon Booster can…what do you mean they _forgot_?"

"They gave up trying, which was pretty smart of them. If the Dragon Booster was so powerful, he could get out himself. They had more important things to do, like stay alive."

"But the Dragon Booster is supposed to save the world. They didn't _really_ give up on him, right? Wasn't there a huge battle in front of the Shadow Track?" Artha asked, recalling the vivid memory of the desolate battle plain he had seen. Then, with a shock, he wondered what kind of an omen that could have been. If the first thing he saw was a wind swept battle field, what did the future hold? Artha felt a little sick.

"Yeah, there was a battle fought to free him. But you know, they failed," Delilah said. "Listen, according to them at that time, the Dragon Booster would likely overcome his fears." She rolled her eyes slightly to indicate she didn't think the same way. "If he did, he would have died in a week or so from hunger and thirst. There's no way he could have gotten out. The Dragon Booster is dead. It's a known fact. If he hasn't defeated his fears yet, it's unlikely he'll ever defeat them. And if he does, he'll be dead a week later."

"No," Artha whispered.

"Yes, the Dragon Booster is dead."

"No…I mean. They all gave up after that battle…the Dragon Priests too? Even them?" Artha swallowed past the lump in his throat with considerable effort. Even his father? Brother?

"Yes. He's dead." Delilah looked at him, scrutinizing him. "You weren't…really hoping he'd make it out somehow?"

"Yes, he has to! Who's going to stop Word Paynn?" Artha said loudly, gritting his teeth. "Who's going to fight the Shadow Booster? Who's going to unite dragons and humans?"

Delilah shrugged. "The Gold Empire, I guess. Not the Dragon Booster."

Artha slumped back in the saddle and felt beaten. They had all left him? Did the prophesy mean nothing all of a sudden? Then, suddenly, Artha felt selfish. He was _glad_ they left him and didn't try to rescue him again. If it was truly dangerous to try…he was glad they didn't. As long as his dad and brother were alive. As long as they were okay, Artha felt he could continue on, even in this new world.

Delilah looked at Artha, then took a deep breath. "Shall I…continue?" At his slow nod, she said, "Okay then, after…where were we?"

"They had a meeting and decided they shouldn't try to free the Dragon Booster," Artha said grumpily.

"Right. The leaders of the different cities, after realizing what they were up against, they each had different ideas of what they should do. Some wanted to unite and fight, others wanted to look after themselves, others wanted to ally themselves with Word Paynn, others wanted to do different things…so it all fell apart. Then their own cities fell apart too. So the world was at war."

"For how long?" Arth asked bitterly. "How long did everyone…fight?"

Delilah smoothed Covert's hair. "For…for about a while. The Years of War only stopped when the empires were either destroyed or merged into others. After all this fighting, there was only the Paynn Empire, the Purple Empire, the Gold Empire (if you can call them one), the Orange Empire, the Green Empire (the Brown Empire was large but joined with them) and the Black Empire. All the others were too small to be called empires, and so went into hiding. After this, there wasn't a battle for a while. All the empires went about building themselves up and strengthening themselves. By this time, the Paynn Empire was huge. Nearing the end of the Years of War, they had come up with new technology, new gear. Nothing could stop them."

Artha huffed at the 'new gear' part. He should've expected no less from Word.

"The only Empires that would dare oppose him fully were the Orange and Black. The Black Empire was…relatively young. During the Years of War, they didn't involve themselves in the fighting. They grew. Now after the Years of War, during a time of rest, the Black Empire called themselves a haven for those who had been uprooted by all the fighting. Paynn Empire tried to attack them, but the Black Empire never failed to defend. The Shadow Booster leads this empire."

"The Black Empire managed to convince the people and dragons to join them, who would otherwise have joined the Gold Empire. They said they upheld the view that dragons were as good as humans. The Gold Empire didn't believed them, but unfortunately, many people did. After a while, the Shadow Booster became more aggressive. Very violent and the ideas of equality that they used to gain supporters weren't as strong as they used to be. I supposed they just used it just to gain supporters. And that's how it's been for the last while. We're in the Years of Rest. But now it's beginning to look like the Years of War will start again."

"Oh," Artha said blankly. So was that the state the world was in? Artha stared at the ground as it passed by him. How many people had died? It was beginning to seem as if he'd never see anyone again. Not Kitt, Parm or Lance, but not Khatah, Marianis, Pyrrah, Phistus or anyone else either.

"So," Artha said softly, then with more determination in his voice, "How are we exactly supposed to find the Gold Empire?" The world was in an upheaval. They needed the Dragon Booster, and they needed him now.

Delilah answered him straightly. "Not really sure. But I know they're somewhere to the East. We'll have to get outside of the Paynn Empire boundaries. Then we'll be able to find people less afraid to talk about them. We also won't have those wraiths to worry about."

Artha noticed her twiddling her thumbs anxiously. He frowned. "What else would we worry about instead of the wraiths?"

"Oh, just the Prophets…stray wraith scouts…hydrags…," Delilah shrugged. "Things like that. But we'll be a lot safer than here."

"You won't be saying that if a Prophet chooses you for its new rider."

"They'll have a tough time doing that."

"They will," Artha said as he turned around and faced the front. "I'll make sure they do."

----------

Edd stamped out the fire and raised his club menacingly while Kyd dropped his pack and ran behind some rocks. "You idiot! What're you think you were doing?"

"N-nothing!" Kyd stammered angrily from behind a boulder. "Just lighting a fire. I'm cold and it's dark!"

Edd sighed and threw his club (a broken piece of gear) against the ground. "Sure," he said in a voice dripping of sarcasm. "Let's light a fire so they'll know exactly where we are! Scale it, Kyd! We're following them SECRETLY! If you need a dictionary…"

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I'll just freeze to death then," Kyd said in a pouting tone.

Edd sighed and turned from him. "I go following them closer, and you go and make yourself a fire. We're not staying here anyway," he added as an afterthought.

"But-but it's night. Aren't they sleeping?" Kyd demanded. He had looked forward to when their quarry would stop for the night. He crept from behind the boulder, sensing Edd's angry mood to shift from being directed at him to being directed at their prey.

"No," Edd sneered as he hoisted his pack onto one of the two wraiths they had brought. "They're still walking. Looks like they plan on walking for most of the night."

Kyd muttered a heart-felt "scales," and picked up his pack from the ground, stuffing things inside that he had taken out, expecting to have rested. Edd placed his helmet on his head and mounted the bipedal wraith, who, other than bending under the weight, made no other movement.

Edd looked at the grumbling Kyd, and when they were both ready, they set out again. Kyd glanced around at the dark landscape, having given up a while ago trying to see the tracks. The night, which had been a foreboding place for their quarry, was a safe, familiar blanket of concealment for Edd and Kyd. Edd liked the night and how he was able to sneak upon unsuspecting insurgents and bring them in for questioning under its dark shield.

Edd put his attention into looking through a pair of binocs, giving him a clear vision of the dragon tracks.

He found it slightly odd that people going to the Gold Empire were using a wraith as transport…unless they had taken the wraith gear off…

Edd chuckled, causing a just snoozing Kyd to jerk awake. "What? What is it?" he asked blearily.

"Nothing, nothing." Edd smiled again. A dragon without wraith gear? That was funny. Everyone knew dragons would eat a person alive given the chance. Edd furrowed his brows, then brought up his VIDDscreen, to where a small, pointy chinned man jumped quickly to full attention.

"Check all wraith databases, Alan," Edd said harshly as Kyd looked over at him, then shifted in attempts to snooze on his silently prowling wraith.

"On another job, are we?" Alan rubbed his pointy chin and yawned, the deep circles under his eyes a testament of his loyalty to his job. He looked at Edd carefully with watery eyes. "Catch anyone that last time?"

Edd grimaced. "Yes-"

"I heard he got away." The point was stated in such a way that Edd got the feeling that Alan had heard it from quite a few people.

"We let him get away. We're following him."

"Leading you somewhere important?"

"That's for me to know. Now have all wraiths checked in?"

Alan harrumphed slightly at Edd's tone of voice, having expected to be informed, like usual. "Yes. None are missing this time, surprisingly. You know, I think that new tracking measure is-"

"None? None at all?"

"No." Alan peered at Edd. "Why? Can I help you with anything?"

Edd sneered at him. "Get back to your clicking, computer boy."

Alan sighed. "Amazing, Edd. That hurt me, right here it did." Alan thumped his chest indifferently, and without another look at Edd - he had mounds of work to do - he terminated the link. Edd groaned and pondered his new dilemma as the green glow faded from his VIDDscreen.

After a few moments of deliberation, he concluded that must mean that the rebels traveling to the Gold Empire were still using a wraith, just not one from this particular area. Perhaps from another city. Edd mulled things over. He'd have to call someone else to see if wraiths were missing from the other cities, and even then, usually trackers went broken, missing and such, so that one wraith was almost always missing.

"Nah, too much a of a hassle," Edd murmured. What was really important wasn't where their wraith had come from; it was staying on their trail and hoping they found the Gold Empire. At any rate, the wraith they had would make their progress quicker, which could be both good and bad for Edd and Kyd.

Edd cracked his neck, then looked through his binocs again and focused on guiding his wraith through the still night.

To his side, Kyd actually snored.

----------

The early morning down in the bottom of the canyon only differed from the night with a grey atmosphere instead of black, and a slightly lighter and more open feel about the land. Artha, Delilah, Covert and Beau had been traveling for one week, riding on Beau while he ran, and then walking beside him to give him a bit of a rest. No prompting was needed for either Artha or Beau; they both wanted to get out of the Paynn Empire as soon as they could.

Delilah said they had traveled in extremely good time, which brightened Artha up. The long ride, though it had given Artha something to do, was becoming long and tiresome, giving him many opportunities to think about what lay ahead and to worry about what he would find.

So it was a very happy day when the great walls of the canyon first rose into view. Artha had never before been so glad to see a massive, almost endless rise of vertical brown stone and dirt. However, his view of it change when they finally reached the bottom, four days after it had first come into view.

Artha looked up in amazement and with a twinge of dread. Before him rising up for miles and miles was the canyon wall. The end disappeared high above him, so Artha had to be content with viewing the steep canyon walls they would have to climb up. For twenty miles. Needless to say, the prospect was not very inviting.

"Like the view?"

Artha looked at Delilah, who was standing beside him as they both looked at their intended path. "Do you? It looks like suicide."

Their intended path was more of a slight break in between littered rocks and thick, dark green moss winding almost vertical up the cliff. "Yep," Artha said. "That's suicide."

Delilah looked at him. "I'm sure the path gets bigger the higher up we go."

Artha watched her cast one last apprehensive look at the 'path' and then turn and walk back to where Covert was playing in the sand and Beau was lying nearby. Artha crossed his arms and looked up again. He sure hoped it got easier the further up they went. He bit his lower lip, then turned and followed Delilah. This was taking far longer than he had expected.

"When do you think we might be out of the Paynn Empire?" Artha asked as they walked back to Beau and Covert.

Delilah stared at the ground before her feet. "Well…it'll take a while to climb the cliff. Once we're out of the canyon we shouldn't have too hard of a time traveling. Though we might have to be extra wary of wraith patrols. But I don't think we'll have too much of a problem. Hard to say how long exactly, but…not _extremely_ long, I don't think."

Artha groaned. Her answer was annoyingly unhelpful and vague. "We need to find the Gold Empire soon."

"Don't worry," Delilah said reassuringly. "We'll find it."

"I don't see how we'll find it soon if we first have to find someone who might know where it is. If we did happen to find someone who knows where it is, why would they risk it telling a couple of strangers?" Artha said the last rather viciously. He kicked at a rock in his path, pretending it to be Word's head.

Delilah watched the rock roll away in silence, and in silence they walked until she spoke up again. "Artha, it makes no sense for the Gold Empire to remain completely hidden. If we're looking for it, we'll find it. Otherwise, how can they grow if they remain hidden to those who would join?"

"I can't see why they can't just tell everyone where they are," Artha huffed.

"They're too small. They'll be crushed in an instant by Word, or the Prophets or the Black Empire."

Artha frowned at the ground before muttering, "I guess. But doesn't the Gold Empire have any alliances? You've mentioned the Green Empire is pretty large. Don't they have their help?"

"They probably do. But green is a stubborn colour and brown doesn't help them any. Perhaps they're all just waiting."

"For what?"

"For the battles to start up again. It's only a matter of time, and I guess it'd make sense to stay in concealment until then. You know, get as powerful as possible without losing anybody in minor skirmishes until the important battles begin."

Artha felt as though war was over his head as Delilah spoke. They had the brains and theories of teenagers, while the rest of the world dealt with complex battle strategies thought up by the experts themselves. He sighed, feeling as though the world were a big ocean, in which he was drowning. He had always been on top of things before. He had always been the one people came to for help, whom people trusted and whom was always informed of everything. Now he knew nothing.

All he needed to do was find his dad. Then everything would be alright. He was sure of it.

----------

The door opened soundlessly in Word's citadel, and Skin entered confidently, walking straight towards the dais, her face set in a grimace of displeasure. The wraiths guarding the door looked blankly at her and watched her approach to Word, who had his back turned. However, Skin's presence had not gone unnoticed by him.

He turned in his chair, Skin's appearance more important than what had held his attention before. Behind him, the screens still showed the instructions and formulas he had been working tirelessly on. He fought the urge to rub his eyes. Of course, he didn't need to spend so much time on his new gears, whether or not the mere idea of their upcoming usefulness was terribly exciting. He did, after all, have an eternity to work on them.

"Skin," he said smoothly as she approached.

When she eyed him warily to judge the mood he was in, Word frowned at her. "What is it?"

Skin stared at him with her one eye for a moment longer before responding, the black patch over her other with harsh lines and ragged edges giving her other eye more viciousness then it otherwise would have. Word just loved that patch. It was amazing what some prisoners would tell her after she had given them one look. "I've just seen the latest footage from a wraith scout in the Old City, sector nine."

"Sector nine?" Word said softly, surprised. It was well known, to him anyway, that the Shadow Track lay in what he called sector nine of the Old City. A wasteland of battle, he rarely bothered to keep regular wraith scouts patrolling the area anymore. He gave her an amused smile. "Why does this footage requite my attention? Or are you simply trying to make small talk?"

"If I were to engage you in _small talk_," Skin said levelly, "Trust me, it would not be about this." A hint of venom slipped from her voice, causing her to close her lips tightly in anxious worry that she had made Word angry. Word's eye twitched, knowing full well what she meant. Skin's eye narrowed, affected by Word's own hard stare.

For a moment, they stared at each other; Word almost ineffectively showing his dominance and Skin revealing as much defiance as she dared. Then Skin abruptly broke the unblinking stare, deciding that her news required Word to be in the best possible mood. She continued in her brisk manner, yet not without a look that said we'll-talk-about-this-later. "The footage is…it requires your attention." From her pocket, she produced a small disc and stepped forward to hand it to Word.

Word took it while ignoring her slight glare and turned it over in his hands in mild curiosity before placing it into his VIDDscreen. When it loaded, which took about the span of one second, he saw sector nine from the wraith's point of view. It was walking through the battle field, empty and barren.

Word sat back in his chair and watched while Skin watched him, awaiting his reaction with the hint of a smile on her lips. Word, after watching the wraith walk through the Old City, began to grow irritated. What was the point? He looked back at Skin and found her watching him intently.

"It's at the Shadow Track."

The at-ease mood Word had been in was quickly destroyed and sent into oblivion, and he wouldn't likely find it again for a while. Those two words sent off alarms bells in his head and caused him to grip the sides of his chair. "The Shadow Track?"

Staring at the screen, Word didn't see Skin nod sullenly behind him. Boring his eyes into the screen for one more second, Word abruptly laughed and sat back. Skin rose her eyebrows in surprise.

"Sir?"

Word sighed and let his laughter trail off. "The Shadow Track? Why would something there need my attention?"

"Well," Skin stuttered for a moment, completely unprepared for his sudden dismissal of the dire and ominous threat, if it proved to be true. "The…the Dragon Booster is imprisoned there, and-"

"-and he's not likely to break free. Ever. Really, Skin, does it seem possible to you?"

"Sir, was it not you who told me that underestimating your enemies paves the way for your own downfall?" Skin questioned.

Word looked at her. "True…but he _can't_." Word silently turned back to the screen while Skin sighed, both knowing the last part Word had said was more to convince himself that he couldn't come back. At any rate, Skin thought it was just stupid to hope it wouldn't happen when there was the chance it could.

Realizing the wraith was about to come into view of the Shadow Track, Word mumbled to himself. "He can't come back…even the Dragon of Legend cannot break through that cliff. They're both too inexperienced." He'd done the math, read all the ancient texts, and found that the Dragon Booster couldn't break free, not with the little he knew.

Word faced the screen as the wraith's camera finally showed the Shadow Track. And he gasped.

For the next hour, the citadel was filled with the defiant and stubborn protests of Word and the equally defiant, but more calculated rebuttals of Skin. Various people - ordered in specifically - observed and studied the video, then left to study the Shadow Track. As the day progressed and the reports filed in, Word began to realize that it was quite possible that the Dragon Booster had finally escaped.

The rocks strewn about the battle field were thrown in an outward circle from the track, and all the experts agreed on one thing: they were from within the track. An explosion had sent them hurling outside and caused the entire cliff to collapse. As if Word's reaction after hearing this wouldn't have already turn the blood cold and stop the heart in fear, after a video of one of the wraiths that had actually filmed the Dragon Booster and followed him for some ways before he got to the town…well, everyone who wanted to live left in a hurry.

Word found himself a new hobby; tracking down the live Dragon Booster. It was painstakingly clear that the hero would have gone to the closest town, and when night fell, Edd and Kyd's names came up, along with the description of the people they were chasing.

Around midnight, Skin left Dragon City on a red draconium wraith and raced east, following the footsteps and directions given to her by Edd and Kyd, who were ordered to keep tracking their prey, and that the mission had gone up to top priority.

-----------

That night they risked a fire.

Artha spread his hands to feel the heat and sighed loudly. "So warm. And the food. So warm."

Delilah grinned and took another bite of her dragon fish. Beside her, also sitting cross-legged on the ground, was Covert. He had already finished his food and was contenting himself with making a house from twigs, stones and dirt. Artha leaned back against the snoozing Beau's warm side.

For weeks and weeks they had traveled, and now was one of the rare times in which both Artha and Delilah felt safe enough and far away enough from any towns to light a fire.

Artha looked up at the tree-tops and sat for a while watching the uncountable stars, a sight he was quickly growing accustomed to. Their trip had seemed so much more alive and worthwhile after they had gotten out of the canyon. Beau loved the grass and the trees and the vibrancy of the world. It was so much different from the area surrounding Dragon City. Even though they hadn't any further news of the Gold Empire, Artha felt safe and incredibly optimistic.

Delilah yawned, causing Artha to look from the heavens and at her.

"So," she mused. "Shall I take first watch, or you?"

"I think it's your turn."

Delilah tapped a finger against her lower lip. "My turn was last night."

"Yes, but last night we stopped at an inn. You skipped your turn." Artha grinned and leaned forward, ready for the inevitable argument.

Delilah laughed and stood. "Fine, fine. I'll take first watch."

"What? Just like that?" Artha blinked, thoroughly shocked.

Delilah shrugged. "Come on. We've traveled _all day_," she said, stressing the last words. "I've got no energy for arguing. I'll just let you think you're getting your way for now."

Artha felt too tired to utter a retort, so he let it slide and moved around until he was in a better position. Beside him, Beau made a low noise that unmistakably told him to stop moving before he unexpectedly found his mouth full of dirt. Artha wisely obliged, yet shifted once more to let Covert sleep beside him.

----------

Edd dropped to his stomach and wriggled and crawled the rest of the way to the top of the incline. Kyd followed, muttering quietly.

Edd would have grumbled along with Kyd; after all, crawling on your stomach in the middle of the night on a slightly muddy hill was far from fun. But he was in such a good mood. He could put up with being dirty.

Ferns and clumps of tall grass shielded his view, but he knew that down below, almost beneath the small cliff, was their prey. They had been following them for weeks and now was the only time in which they were about to get a good look at them, besides the time at Dragon City. Peeking through the grass ahead was the faint glow of the dying fire. Edd grinned and pushed his way to the top slowly and quietly, so that neither Kyd nor he were heard.

Besides the fact that they were about to get a good look at their quarry, Skin was due to catch up with them before morning. Not that Edd was looking forward to her company, but she would be a big help, and her presence would give both Edd and Kyd a bigger sense of duty. The Chief Investigator and Espionage Expert for the Paynn Empire only dealt in important issues. Edd couldn't have felt any prouder.

Finally, nearly three meters ahead of Kyd, who was still lagging behind, Edd was able to brush aside the last of the grass and peer down. The first thing he saw was the campfire, slowly dying out. Then he saw the large shape of their quadruped wraith. And right against it slept the boy and the child.

"What?" Edd hissed and glared downwards. That wraith…it couldn't be…Edd could barely believe his eyes.

The light of the fire clearly showed the red and blue markings, and Edd looked again to make sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. Blue and red? Why wasn't the wraith black and purple? He couldn't believe it. A free dragon.

And it wasn't attacking them. Edd snorted. A free dragon? He shook his head. Boy, did he have news to tell Skin when she arrived.

Kyd scuttled up next to him, quieter than Edd had been, which surprised Edd to no end. He waited for the inevitable as Kyd glanced down.

"Magna Draconis, Edd. That dragon…it's not a wraith."

"Nope," Edd huffed.

"Wh…why isn't it attacking them?" Kyd asked, forever believing the guise that dragons were vicious beasts.

Edd sighed and hesitated before whispering. "Perhaps it's been…I don't know, Kyd."

"Wow," Kyd said again with amazement. "That dragon is pretty colorful."

Edd rolled his eyes, then growled and pulled Kyd down to the ground with him as they hid behind the grass.

"Wha-"

"Shush! She's back!"

----------

Artha felt a kick in his stomach and his eyes flew open. He sat bolt upright and looked around before he noticed Delilah to his side, snickering quietly.

She held up her hands as he glared at her. "I'm…sorry," she laughed. "You were just so…"

"Next time," Artha growled as he stood up, "No kicking. Poking me will do."

"Alright. Up pokey, your turn for lookout."

Artha brushed himself off and realized he might have just given himself a new nickname. He sighed.

"Didn't see anything, did you?" Artha asked as he stepped away from Beau.

"Nope. But I saw a _huge_ draco-slug."

"So I'll be able to look forward to another completely boring few hours, huh?"

"Basically. Be glad there's nothing out there."

"I am."

Delilah looked down at Covert, then tentatively sat down beside him, all the while eyeing Beau cautiously. Artha laughed softly.

"Like I said before, he won't eat you."

Delilah shot him a glare that soon softened. "I…I'm still not entirely used to him yet."

"Well I'm sure you'll have fun when we reach the Gold Empire. They must have _lots_ of free dragons," Artha said eagerly.

"Yes, well, the ones that are still alive."

Delilah's somber and serious tone wiped the smile from Artha's face. Delilah looked down at her lap, feeling guilty for stamping out the good mood with the reality of the world. Artha looked at the barely glowing embers of the fire.

"Delilah?"

"Hmm?"

"How long again until we're out of the Paynn Empire?"

"Another week," she answered promptly. "If it doesn't rain again, that is."

"Even if it does, we'll walk through the rain this time. We're almost out."

Delilah gave him a look. "Just because we're almost out of the empire doesn't mean we can be careless. Do you _want_ to get a cold?"

"Course not. But…like you said. The world is still in a time of rest, and we need to use this time to…to find them and prepare for when the war starts up again."

Delilah nodded. "I hope it doesn't start too soon, but…I have a feeling it will. The entire world has been on the brink of war for a while."

_And the return of the Dragon Booster will be the thing that sets them off, _Artha thought glumly.

Then Delilah shrugged it off. "We only have to start worrying when the Black Empire comes down from the north. They're the empire that's going to start the war, when they're ready."

"And when were not," Artha huffed and turned to the forest. "Well, I hope you sleep better than I did."

"What? You looked pretty sound asleep before." Delilah gave him a grin before settling herself down to sleep. Artha sighed and could almost have sworn he heard her call him pokey as he walked away.

He sighed contentedly as he walked beneath the branches of the trees. He decided to walk around the camp a few times before climbing up high on the small cliff from where he could see everything. Looking up at he cliff, he was struck by the sudden feeling that something else was up there already, watching them.

Perhaps he would go there first.

He altered his course and took no more than five steps before a harsh snort sounded right before his face.

"What?" Artha jumped and fell back, fearing a hydrag.

But what crept from beneath the shadows of the trees was no hydrag. A sleek, black face looked at him, and green eyes looked him up and down. A rough voice came from above the dragon.

"What's that? A human?"

Artha yelped and scrambled through the bushes and quickly ran to the clearing where Beau was rising to his feet, growling at the forest. Delilah stood, looking about herself in shock.

"Artha, what?" she began before he cut her off.

"There's someone on a dragon there."

"Who?"

"I don't know! Beau!"

Beau nodded his head at Artha and magged him onto the saddle, which he had quickly magged on first. Delilah grabbed Artha's leg.

"What did they look like?"

"It was a black dragon," Artha said quickly as he scanned the forest for the dragon and rider, who appeared not to have followed him.

"A black dragon?" Delilah echoed, stunned.

Suddenly, from all around them, growls rose and voices shouted. They were surrounded.

Dark shapes began to materialize from behind the trees, riders upon dragons. Artha quickly noticed that they weren't wraiths.

Covert cowered by Beau's hind foot while Delilah gaped openmouthed at their foes and at the glinting symbol imprinted on their helmets, visible by the starlight only. A black, forsaken dragon eye.

The Black Empire had finally come. They lowered their lances.

----------

Edd and Kyd absolutely froze as the ring of Dragon Eyes encircled their prey. Edd seethed in his mind, then tugged at Kyd's sleeve. They had to get out of there, now. Kyd quickly followed, wide-eyed and shocked. The Black Empire.

After thinking that they had made enough noise to wake the peacefully slumbering dead, Edd and Kyd reached their wraiths, whom they had left a ways away. Edd and Kyd were dirty and scratched, but above all, terrified.

Edd vaulted onto his dragon and slammed on his helmet. Kyd sped by him on his own wraith, eager to be as far away from the dreaded Dragon Eyes as he could. Neither of them wanted to be captured by them. Perhaps they would face their leader, their blood thirsty, brutal leader. Edd would take Word Paynn over him any day.

"Halt!" hissed a voice from behind them. Edd stopped, recognizing the voice, while Kyd ran on.

"I said halt!" Skin said, louder this time. Edd heard the trapping gear go off, soon followed by the sound of Kyd slamming against a tree.

"Skin?" Edd said as he turned his wraith around. Skin move her own wraith closer to them, her face completely livid.

"Fools! Running will alert them to where we are!"

"So you know who's there?" Kyd stammered.

"Of _course_ I do, idiot!" she snapped. Edd cringed.

After finding his voice, he questioned innocently. "Now what-"

"This changes everything," Skin murmured. "Of all the times for them to be here. And they captured him!"

"Who, the boy?"

"Yes," Skin replied darkly, then abruptly turned her wraith around.

"Are you…are you going to follow them?" Edd asked. "They're not going to be leading us to the Gold Empire anymore. We'll get caught!"

"We?" Skin turned to look at him, and Edd found himself avoiding her intensely marked patch. She sniffed. "This boy has become of great importance to the Paynn Empire."

"Is it because of his dragon?" Kyd asked, struggling against the trapping gear. Skin shot him a death glare.

"What do you know of his dragon?"

"Just that…that it's not a wraith…" Kyd stammered, worse than before. Skin's face showed no surprise at the news. She turned to Edd.

"Here is where you will show your loyalty now," she said with all the authority she commanded, which was quite a bit. "This boy and his dragon must be killed. We cannot hope the Black Empire will do that. We must see his dead body for ourselves. And seeing as you two are the only available rebel catchers around here, you will have to do."

"I'll come," Edd said quickly. "I'll come and kill him myself."

Skin gave him a malicious smile. "Let's just hope he dies." Then she looked at Kyd.

Kyd looked from her, to where Edd was sitting high and important on his wraith. He finally nodded his head, not wanting to be left out, or to lose his friend.

"Your actions will be rewarded, or punished," Skin said, saying the last as an afterthought. "We will follow them. We will not stop following them until they are dead." She said the last with such finality that Edd began to grow even more apprehensive than he already was.

Skin whirled her wraith around and walked off slowly. Edd came over to Kyd and snapped the trapping gear with his mag staff. He then followed Skin slowly.

Finally, he had a chance to prove himself, that he was much more than a rebel catcher.

Kyd herded up his wraith and forced himself to walk it, instead of running up to travel beside Edd. He always knew Edd wanted to do more for the Paynn Empire, and shouldn't have been so surprised that Edd had volunteered so quickly. Kyd shuddered.

The Black Empire was here. The war was about to begin again.


	15. The Gathering Gloom

**A/N:** Firstly, sorry about the wait, but here's a long chapter to make up for it. :)

I looked at the character-dragons reference sheet and took a look at the Prophets crew. In case you're wondering, Glyff, K-Oz and Schizzm are actually canon Prophets, according to the document. Glyff is the Porphet's mag-attack strategist, K-Oz is the Information Officer and Schizzm is the Dragon Rioting Expert. I also noticed that Propheci's real second-in-command is Anr'Key, and is a female. Because of that, I'm seriously wondering whether I should change Sycundys' name to Anr'Key, just to go by the document. Should I? Oh, and it might go without saying that the Prophets appear in this chapter. :P

This may have been done sooner if I didn't hold a certain ideal that my chapters must all be above 7,000 words or they're too short. Me like long chapters. :P Hope you all like.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Dragon Booster, I merely fantasize about owning it.

* * *

_The Gathering Gloom_

The sun had just barely began to stroke Artha's face with its warm fingers, a relief against the sharp cold of the night and the sharp feeling of worry in the pit of his stomach. His wrists were chafing painfully from the tightly bound rope behind him as he stumbled forward. He picked his way carefully. He didn't relish plunging face first onto the ground. Again.

A hard pressure to his back sent him reeling suddenly forward. With a gasp he fell onto his stomach amidst bouts of laughter from his black clad captors. Artha groaned and lifted a now scraped cheek from the ground. From the corner of his eye he saw his current guard laughing along with the rest of the Dragon Eyes who had seen it and bothered to laugh, which many did not. Though that didn't make it any less irritating to Artha.

His guard laughed the hardest of all and grinned wickedly as he yanked on the rope, dragging Artha through the grass and dirt towards himself as he backed up to his dragon. "Come on, little dragon whelp. Get back up!"

Artha glared at the ground and did his best to stand. Though when he started to rise from his knees to his feet, his captor pulled on the rope again, and Artha toppled onto his back. He and several others burst into laughter again.

"What's going on here, soldier?"

Artha lifted his head and peered at the Dragon Eyes, several of whom shifted to let the dark-skinned man who had spoken through. He walked towards them with nothing less of absolute authority in this given situation, while his black dragon walking behind him gave off that very same air. The dragon lifted his head above everyone else and appraised Artha with a scrutinizing eye.

Artha turned his attention back to his guard, who had unsurprisingly gone quiet at the commanding tone of the superior. Artha remained on the ground, wishing himself invisible.

"Well?" The man who had spoken stopped right before Artha's guard and stood, hands on his hips, looking at the guard in a disapproving way, like a parent would look at a child. A very exasperated parent, Artha noted.

Artha's guard hung his head and mumbled inaudibly. The Commander, Artha decided to think of him, sighed and shook his head. "We cannot waste more time than we already have. We're behind schedule as it is. Dragging him through the dirt is not going to sped things up. Nor is it necessary."

The Commander turned from the guard with one last look to sear his message into his thick head, and then turned to the rest of the group. Artha glanced around quickly to make sure he wouldn't be thrown down again, and then stood slowly.

The rest of the Dragon Eyes, all five of them including their dragons, stood attentively. Artha's guard's short display of ashamedness at the treatment of his prisoner vanished when his commander's eyes left him. He scowled at Artha. Artha looked back to where Beau was standing forlornly, covered in black jamming gear, unable to mag and too weak to run. He had only just stopped roaring when the Commander intervened, and looked like he was ready to tear the guard's head from his shoulders. Delilah and Covert were close by, hands behind their backs just as Artha's were.

For the first time, Artha noticed a new arrival, one who hadn't been involved in the capture last night, bringing the total count of Dragon Eyes there to six. He and his dragon looked tired and dusty, but both were grinning as if they had just recently discovered the secret to eternal life.

"Scoot has returned," the Commander began, nodding at the new arrival. Scoot beamed at the others. Artha could only guess that Scoot was their scout or messenger of sorts. He lacked the burly and heavyset bodies of the other Dragon Eyes, and both his dragon and he were lean and thin, seemingly built for speed and stealth.

The Commander continued in his baritone voice, "Base camp and all other parties have finished their priorities and are coming to intercept us. Our ETA is fifteen minutes. Missions status is a success."

The Dragon Eyes cheered and thumped each other on the back if they were close enough. Artha caught Delilah's eye, and she looked back at him worriedly.

As the sun fully rose above the horizon, they set out again.

--

The group of five Dragon Eyes - Scoot had left them and gone on ahead - and three humans plus one free-willed dragon, who made sure the others were well aware of that fact, traveled the forest and reached the main group of Dragon Eyes far too quickly for the captives' liking.

The rest of the Dragon Eyes were waiting right in the forest, clearly avoiding the pastures and open areas and opting to stay hidden and unnoticed beneath the limbs of the great trees instead.

When they were quite far under the canopy of the huge trees, the Dragon Eyes dismounted at a signal from their leader. Artha breathed in the musty dampness of the closed in forest and looked back warily at his guard. His guard looked over his shoulder at Artha as soon as he dismounted and sneered. Then he walked away and disappeared into the trees. Needless to say, Artha was glad to watch him go.

Delilah crouched down near Covert, hands still tied behind her back. The Dragon Eyes didn't seem to want to take any sort of risks, even though their captives were completely surrounded, though Artha would have to go on trust with that; he couldn't see any other Dragon Eyes besides the few still left around him, guarding leisurely. But he could hear the others. All it took was a dragon snort off to the side, a cough from behind a cluster of trees and a group laugh not too far off for him to know that escape, especially with his hands tied up, was out of the question.

Artha looked around for his friends. Delilah and Covert seemed fine, but Beau…where was Beau? The trees blocked his view, and Beau was currently nowhere to be seen. But he did remember seeing him just as they walked into the thick trees. At least Beau was here…somewhere. "Beau?" Artha called out.

"Quiet you," hissed a purple-haired Dragon Eye just walking into the clearing. He viciously backhanded Artha across the face, sending him to the leaf-covered ground. Without a backward glance he strode off to the Commander.

Artha blinked his eyes, and slowly the treetops came back into focus. Gradually, when his ears stopped ringing, he heard a dragon roar repeatedly. It took him a while to recognize the desperate sound.

"Beau!"

"I said, _shut up_! And that dragon, quiet him too!" The newcomer barked to a nearby soldier, who rotated between nodding and saluting before the purple-haired Dragon Eye aimed a kick at his legs. Then the soldier scrambled to rush to Beau, who still hadn't quieted.

"Last thing we need here is noise," he grumbled to the Commander, who nodded absentmindedly, watching Artha carefully. Artha looked away from the brown gaze.

Delilah and Covert cautiously edged towards him, keeping a wary eye on the Commander and new, brutal Dragon Eye, both of whom were deep in conversation, with the newcomer doing most of the talking and the Commander nodding every now and then. When no reprimand of any sort presented itself, she soon found Covert and herself next to Artha.

All three of them sat on the ground, still damp from the morning dew. Artha couldn't care less at the moment whether the seat of his pants were dry or not. Beau's roars had stopped, which made him worry all the more. What were they doing to him?

Covert had clasped himself firmly to Delilah's left arm and looked at the two Dragon Eyes, eyes wide open and fearful. Delilah sighed and leaned closer to Artha so she could whisper.

"I…I'm sorry."

Artha glanced away from the cluster of trees where he had heard Beau roar last. "What?" he asked, taken off guard.

"Sssh."

Artha brought his voice level down to a whisper of his own. "Why do we need to whisper?"

"Well, why not?"

"Erm…"

"Artha," Delilah said even quieter. "We've been captured by the Dragon Eye empire. It's…it's not going to be…I don't know if we can escape them."

Artha stared at her as her voice broke down on her last words. She looked at the ground, ashamed of the tears forming in her eyes which she couldn't wipe away. "We'll…we'll find a way out," Artha stammered, a bit unnerved. It wasn't truly that bad, was it? "There's going to be a way ou-"

"Artha," she whispered through clenched teeth. "I highly doubt that. You've lived up in the mountains where you probably haven't heard any news, or what the Dragon Eyes did to their prisoners. And I'm - I'm sorry."

Artha swallowed. "This isn't your fault."

She shook her head, shutting her eyes tight to ward off tears. "I was your guide, I was supposed to…to bring you safely out of the Paynn Empire at _least_…but I couldn't…" She sniffed. "We're in so much trouble, Artha. You're traveling with a - a free dragon. And I'm traveling with you. We'll probably be questioned thoroughly. You don't know how rare a free dragon is down here, or anywhere. This is so…unusual. And they'll find out what we're doing and going. They'll find out."

"What will they do to us?" Artha asked. He remembered when he was caught by the Dragon Eyes before, when Beau was slowly being turned against him. The worst thing about that imprisonment was that he had been thirsty the whole time, and otherwise being stuck on that wall wasn't all that bad. When Delilah didn't answer him he knew that it would be much worse this time around.

What was he doing? He wasn't going against the Dragon Eye crew anymore, this was an empire. With deadly weapons and even deadlier hand with which to wield them. The wind suddenly seemed to blow a little colder.

--

"Stop stumbling! Magna Draconis!"

Artha tried his best to do as he was told, but staying upright while a certain, vehemently cursing, purple-haired Dragon Eye pushed him along on uneven ground was not easy in the least.

The two Dragon Eyes, the Commander and the purple-haired one, whom the Commander had called Protyst, pulled them to their feet after they had finished their apparent discussion. Artha smiled inwardly that the Commander was the one herding Delilah and Covert, and not Protyst. The Commander seemed reasonable; Protyst seemed plain cranky.

"I said _move_!"

Artha bit his lower lip to keep from retorting, which he was sure would not warrant a good response. Not with the retort _he_ had in mind. He nearly giggled. For that he earned a smack in the back of the head.

A light drizzle began to fall as they walked through the forest, and the forest itself yielded no variance of any kind. The occasional muffled voice or dragon snort was the only indication that they were, in fact, surrounded.

Artha had to be thankful that the thick trees only allowed the bare minimum of the misty rain to drip onto their heads as they plodded on. At least they were doing him some good.

Protyst shoved Artha to the right. "To the tent, boy."

At first, Artha could see no tent of any sort, but one eventually showed itself from where it was strategically placed and hidden right behind a few thick trees. The tent looked like it had seen better days and perhaps too many at that. It was faded, and where it had been torn was patched up none too neatly. Artha stared at the tent. He had expected something better.

"Hold it," Protyst growled and yanked on the rope from behind Artha, pulling him to a stop right before the entrance. Glancing behind himself, Artha could see the Commander come to a halt behind Protyst while Delilah tried to comfort Covert, who looked like he was about to make a run for it any second. Too bad his hands were tied as well.

A lone Dragon Eye leaning against a nearby tree regarded them silently.

"Well?" Protyst demanded impatiently. "We don't have all day."

The Dragon Eye sighed and inclined his head to the entrance. "He's actually been waiting for you."

The Commander, Artha noted, gave Protyst a sharp look.

"Well, he wasn't when I came to get these three brats," Protyst said in a rush.

"Sure took your time then, didn't you?" the Dragon Eye said, taking advantage of Protyst's situation. The Commander simply watched them both.

"Back to your duty," Protyst sneered at the Dragon Eye and ducked into the tent, pulling Artha in after him. Artha heard the Commander's low voice as he talked to the Dragon Eye outside, but missed his exact words as his eyes took in the tent.

It was larger than it looked, the inside very drastic in comparison to the outside. Whereas the outside was weather-beaten, faded and hardly looked cared after, the inside looked relatively top notch. As top notch as nearly empty tents went, at any rate. It was clean, orderly and looked as if it was designed to be put up and taken down in mere seconds. The few objects that were inside was a polished desk, some maps and rather intimidating looking gears.

"Ah, Protyst, you had me worried. I thought you had gotten lost."

Behind the desk, seated on a stool with feet propped up, the green eyes of the man who had just spoken flickered up and rested on Protyst. He scowled at them while Protyst cleared his throat.

"My apologies, sir," Protyst remarked with evident sarcasm, his mood quickly changing from wary and nervous to outright spiteful. The man behind the desk scowled further and brushed a hand through his reddish hair irritably.

"Where are the others?" he demanded. "I thought I told you to bring all prisoners? And where is -"

At that moment, the Commander exchanged a few parting words with the Dragon Eye outside and entered the tent with Delilah and Covert in tow. The red-haired Dragon Eye leaned back in his chair, feet still comfortably resting on the desk, but now tapping against each other in a rhythm of victory. He smiled.

"My apologies for the wait," the Commander said, inclining his head slightly. The man behind the desk waved it off. Artha could sense Protyst seething beside him.

"No great matter," the man said confidently, and in turn gave his three prisoners a thorough look. Artha felt inclined to speak up, but Delilah beat him to it.

She glared at the man evenly. "Release us."

He gave a short laugh. "Why would I do that?"

"Someone will notice we're missing," she countered. The man continued to smile at them in his superior way. "If the Paynn Empire finds out that some Dragon Eye scouts are snooping around down here, you'll have the wraiths on your tail. More than you can handle," she added as an afterthought.

The man shook his head and chuckled. "Darling, the wraiths won't find us. The Paynn Empire won't find us. No one will find us."

"But-"

"And I highly doubt that anyone will be worried about you. But," he shrugged, "if on the odd chance that someone is worried that you haven't returned, no one will know we've captured you." He raised his eyebrows as he looked at her and shook his head. "No rescue for you."

The red-haired man shifted and lifted his feet from the desk to put them on the floor. He leaned forward in his chair and his voice grew deathly serious. "We've notice that you kids have quite a few supplies with you. Enough food for weeks. It doesn't look like you're expected back anytime soon. It's not at all hard to imagine that the wilderness will have gotten you. Perhaps you got careless and got lost. Or maybe a few hydrags crept up on you while you slept." He sighed and stared up at the patched roof. "So many possibilities. The fact is, you are our prisoners now. And _no_ one will know."

Delilah pursed her lips in irritation and fear. They were in the Dragon Eye's clutches, the empire that was slowly moving from its comfortable place in the north to invade the rest of the world and start the war anew. And here, they were the only ones who knew that it was starting up again.

Artha spoke up. "But why did you capture us?"

Protyst jabbed Artha in the back with his finger. "Because it was too easy." He gave a tight, anarchic laugh. "And your dragon was far too good to pass up. Where did you get a dragon like that anyway?" He pulled Artha's collar and growled in his ear. "Don't tell me the Paynn Empire is getting cozy with the idea of _freedom_ for dragons?"

"Dragons deserve to be free! Just as much as us!" Artha shot back. Protyst stepped back, surprised that Artha had retorted in the first place, never mind what he had said.

"_Those_ big lizards?" he asked incredulously as if Artha had just said that dragons could talk, sing and dance too.

"Not lizards. Dragons! And they deserve to be treated with the same amount of respect that we…"

Protyst laughed and cut Artha off with a wave of his hand. "This is preposterous. Dragons as our equals. They're animals. How dare you bring down the human race to be on the same level as _animals_?"

Delilah scowled at him. "You sound like you're from the Paynn Empire." All traces of amusement were lifted from Protyst's face as he grimaced at her.

"Hardly," he responded curtly, evidently disliking the very notion.

"If you feel as though you're through bantering with the prisoners, perhaps you'll let the Major bring them back outside? I'd like to leave. Now." The man behind the desk gave Protyst a stern look.

Protyst sneered at Artha and Delilah. "It's a shame," he said to them, "to see such young minds so ignorant of the truth." Artha glowered at him while Delilah turned her attention back to the man. He spoke before she could.

"Very well then. More questions from you? Short and simple," the man said as he stood up, "you are our prisoners, as we've so thoroughly discussed, and you shall remain so. We are returning to our main force, and you will come with us. Upon our arrival, you will then be subjected to questioning. Questions about the empire, various things about the everyday life. Every piece of knowledge is useful."

"You didn't just catch us to tell you about that," Artha said, turning from Protyst.

"Of course not," the man chuckled and walked around his desk to stand in front of them. "That trifling information is merely icing on the draconee-yum bar cake. It's your dragon, really. We'd like to know where it came from." He leaned in closed and searched Artha's eyes, as if trying to find the information there. He paused and for a moment seemed uncertain. Artha stared back, confused and wary.

"You," he began, but stopped himself and looked to Delilah as well. "What are your names?"

Delilah spoke instantly. "Lyga. Lyga Speek." Delilah motioned to Covert. "He's Sham Speek."

"Brother?"

"Yes."

"He doesn't talk."

"He's mute."

"Oh."

When the man's eyes came to rest on Artha, he blurted out the first name that came to mind. "Bob."

The man's eyebrow arched. "Bob?"

"Yes. My name is Bob."

"Bob…"

"Bob Speek. I'm ah, her cousin." (1)

The man then narrowed his eyes. "Hmm."

"Is something wrong?" Delilah offered, and Artha was glad she spoke up. It was unnerving how the man looked through him, as if he knew something more.

"Oh, no," he blinked and stepped back, no longer looking suspicious and curious, but a bit spooked. "You just…seemed familiar…."

"I did?"

He nodded very slowly. "Yes. You…no. Forget it. Lieutenant, Major!"

His sudden bark brought Protyst and the Commander to immediate attention. Wait, not quite a Commander, he was a Major apparently, and Protyst was the Lieutenant. Though it didn't matter much to Artha, he preferred to think of the Major as Commander, at least until he learned his real name.

"Major, bring them outside and find some guards for them. Lieutenant, ready the gear." He looked to his prisoners and smiled, his eyes gleaming at them. "We'll be leaving shortly."

He strode to the tent flap and ducked outside while the Commander spread his one arm to the door, inviting them to go first. Artha followed Delilah and Covert, and glanced back to see Protyst bending down over a piece of gear. Before he was whisked out the door, Artha noticed that it was black, with a purplish glint. It instantly reminded him of black shadow draconium.

"Colonel," said a Dragon Eye, snapping to attention before the red-haired man, who had just mounted his dragon.

Artha breathed in the coolness of the forest, noticing how the sun was piercing through the leaves more now since it was higher in the sky. The Commander herded them to a clearing just behind the tent, ushering waiting Dragon Eyes to stand guard before he left without a backward glance. Looking around, Artha noticed that the Dragon Eyes who had before been hiding in the forest now gathered around, ready to leave. Artha looked for the man who had so calmly proclaimed their doom.

He was still on his dragon, giving various orders to the men around him. And Artha, to his surprise, found that he couldn't look away.

Though the man's dragon stood beneath a tree sheathed in shadows, Artha recognized her. He didn't know the dragon's name, but he had seen that dragon not too long ago; actually, about fifteen years. That dragon was a Dragon Eye dragon, and Artha had seen her many times while the Dragon Eyes had been stealing and thieving.

When the dragon turned her head and looked at him, her features and markings hardly seemed changed at all. Artha held his breath as he looked at the man again, this time recognizing him for who he really was. He had changed far more than his dragon, but Artha saw the similarities. No wonder he had looked as though he had recognized him in the tent. Artha fell to his knees suddenly and felt the forest around him tip and sway. He didn't hear Delilah crouching down beside him and ask what was wrong.

"I said hurry," the man shouted to the tent. "We must leave immediately."

Protyst stumbled out of the tent, which was at once taken down and stowed away. "The gear was…"

"I don't care. Just get it in working order now!"

"Yes, Colonel," Protyst sneered and walked to the middle of the small clearing. "Whatever you say, Rancydd."

Rancydd grunted and glared as Protyst set up the gear, then turned his dragon to inspect the rest of the Dragon Eyes. Then Artha fainted.

--

To say the very least, it was a frightening day to meet Word Paynn. He was in a bad mood.

If his citadel never had a chill air about it before, it was there today, settling over the building like a smothering blanket courtesy of the grim reaper himself. It seethed with anger and self-loathing. For it was on this very day, early in the morning, that Word Paynn had learned who it was he had sent his rebel catchers to follow, presumably to the concealed Gold Empire.

He knew the Dragon Booster had gotten free, and he knew his three loyal followers were following him - who else had a free dragon in _his_ empire? - and he knew the Dragon Booster was headed to the Gold Empire, and he knew he had two companions as well. What he didn't know, up until that day, was what the Dragon Booster actually looked like.

It had been far too dangerous to have Edd and Kyd to get close enough to record a decent video of their prey without letting him catch on he was being followed. So Word had to do with their descriptions they had remembered so vividly from their little scrap with him near Dragon City.

"_Black hair it was."_

"_Looked a little grey to me."_

"_Was probably the lighting, Kyd."_

"_Thought I saw some blue too. Could have been _somewhat _grey."_

"_His hair was _black_. His _eyes_ were grey though."_

"_Looked green to me - "_

"_They were grey. And he wore a white jacket, and um, black pants."_

"_Dark purple sleeves. He had the most stupidest name in Draconis on the back of his jacket. Er, started with an O…wait, it was a…oh, scales. What did it start with?"_

"_Didn't see. Can't remember much else of what he looked like, that was about it."_

"_Wait! It was a D! It was backwards, that's why I couldn't tell, sir. The rest of the name escapes me. But maybe it wasn't even his name…"_

"_And Lord Paynn, he was rather short and not at all muscular. Had a young voice, all whiny like."_

"_I think it was the name of his gang. He's probably in some gang. Shall we go fish them out, sir?"_

"_Kyd, we have to follow this boy to the Gold Empire! And I highly doubt it was a gang."_

"_Well there was something on the back of his jacket. And he was actually pretty tall, Edd, as I remember it."_

At that point, Word had massaged his temples and admitted defeat. He would just have to wait to find out what the hero looked like. Since Word highly doubted he would be traipsing across the Paynn Empire in full armor, Word fully expected to finally see him when Skin caught up to Edd and Kyd. She was someone he could be sure wouldn't get caught as she moved in for an image. She wasn't head of his special ops for nothing.

And, as he ordered her to do, an image came after weeks and weeks of waiting. At that point, he felt as though she needn't have hurried at all.

The stable-boy, just as he remembered him, and his stupid, blindingly colorful dragon, both being hurried through the forest by Dragon Eyes. Dragon Eyes! Things were happening too fast. First the appearance of the one who could stop everything he had worked for, (and it was Artha Penn to boot. _Artha Penn_! Alive!) and now the Dragon Eye Empire was coming down from the North, invading _his_ land!

After Word obsessed over the many times he had fought against the Dragon booster - remembering the time he had wraith gear on Penn's dragon hoping to catch the black and gold dragon pushed him over the edge every time he thought about it (2) - he obsessed over the fact that the war was beginning anew.

Word grimaced and faced his screens, fingering his amulet unconsciously, anger flickering in his grey eyes. It would have started again, sooner or later, this war. The arrival of the Dragon Booster marked it.

--

Edd watched as Skin sat on her wraith, calmly listening to Word Paynn. How she faced his anger, Edd didn't know. She was too far away to be heard clearly, but he could hear the evident tone of Paynn's voice. He didn't dare to sneak closer for a listen, though.

Kyd and he were sitting on their own wraiths, waiting for Skin to return, perhaps with new orders.

"Still, I don't get it."

Edd sighed and looked at Kyd. "What? Oh, not that again -"

"Yes! I mean, why is this kid so important."

"Just shut up about it. We don't question orders, especially direct-from-Word-Paynn-himself orders!"

"But still -"

"Be quiet."

Kyd sighed and stared at the trees around them. The sun was just climbing to its highest point in the sky, and Edd was glad they were under the shade of some trees. The Dragon Eyes and their captives were further south. It was a few seconds later that Edd knew Kyd had a problem of shutting up when he opened his mouth again.

"But all this work for one lousy kid and his dragon?" he began. "I understand if we were to follow him to the Gold Empire, but kill him? Does he hold some important information? Cause I freeze my butt off every night following this little -"

"I don't know why he's so important, maybe Skin will tell us when she's finished."

"Yeah right. Generals like her don't give out information to rebel catchers like us."

"Kyd," Edd said, leaning toward his friend, "have you ever thought that after this, after the boy's dead, that we might become more than rebel catchers?" Kyd looked at him, interest fully captured.

"I mean," Edd continued. "What if we're given medals? Promotions?"

Kyd slowly stared off into a vision only he could see. "Promotions?" He smiled crookedly, then snapped back to reality. "But what if the Dragon Eyes kill him instead?"

Edd held up a finger. "This boy is definitely the top concern for Paynn if he sends Skin out here just to make sure he dies. And we don't even have to do it! As long as we're still with Skin when we receive confirmation that he's dead (after all, the Dragon Eyes aren't known for keeping useless prisoners alive) we'll be rewarded."

"You think this kid is that important?"

"Seems to be."

"She's coming back."

Edd and Kyd immediately fell silent as Skin walked her wraith over to them. She stopped before them, and they waited until she spoke in an irritated tone.

"Our mission is as before. We stay with them until Artha is dead."

"Who?" Kyd blurted out before Edd could say something less stupid.

"The boy," Skin snapped. "His name is Artha."

"And why does he need to die? He's important, isn't he?" Again Kyd spoke before Edd, who made do with glaring at him.

Skin glared at him as well, and all in all, Kyd was beginning to feel uncomfortable and as if he had said something wrong. "That's not for you to know," she said.

"But don't we -" he started again.

"Doesn't matter. We follow orders _without_ questions!" Edd jumped in, quickly and rather fervently. "Artha will die, and we will be witness at his cold, dead body."

Kyd was slightly taken aback at Edd's outburst, while Skin only nodded at him, her earlier irritation gone. "That will please Lord Paynn, to hear that. Loyalty is rewarded." With a knowing glance, she led the way. Edd had the feeling she had known what Kyd and his earlier conversation had been.

Without further questions, they followed her as she led them closer to the Dragon Eyes, to either bear witness to Artha's death, or to finish his life themselves. Either way was a victory.

--

Artha was sure it had been only a few minutes later when he woke up. Delilah was staring down at him, relief flooding her face. "Heat got to you?" she asked.

"Yeah," Artha said absentmindedly.

Covert appeared in his vision as well and smiled. "Come on," Delilah said and helped him sit up. Covert brushed off the leaves and dirt from his back.

"How long was I…"

"Not long," Delilah answered. "The gear is nearly ready. They're starting it up now."

"What gear?" Artha looked around, and settled his eyes on the clearing, and the gear that lay there. It had been fully retracted and set up now. It looked like a long, wide board, almost like Lance's mag-board, Artha thought. But on the ends there were sharp, fantastical looking shapes that rose vertically for three feet. Most prominently on those shapes was a large, triangular-looking addition that pointed diagonally at each other.

"What is it?"

Deliah gave him a look that plainly said you're-an-idiot, but then she must have remembered he was from the mountains because her face softened and she answered. "Black shadow teleportation gear."

"Wha…"

Suddenly, Artha's fascination with the gear and morbid fear of what it actually did was cut short as a familiar roar filled the woods, causing the Dragon Eyes to yell at each other and scramble to their respective jobs.

"Beau!" Artha yelled and twisted around.

Beau continued to roar as he was led into the clearing by several black dragons, with Rancydd walking victoriously beside them on his own. Artha looked away with a sick feeling in his stomach and focused instead on Beau. He called to him again, and this time Beau heard.

He stopped his roars and turned his head Artha's way. His face lit up in a big grin and he gave Artha a familiar grunt that was just for him. "Beau!" Artha said, this time in relief.

He didn't notice Rancydd's tense look when he finally learned the dragon's name.

"Hey…hey you! Stop that!" Artha yelled at the Dragon Eyes surrounding Beau who were checking the black jamming gear on him, to make sure that none were loose. Beau growled at them and attempted to use his mag-energy, but nothing happened. He gave Artha a low rumble of defeat, indicating that he was without his energy.

As Artha continued to look at Beau, Delilah nudged him and stood up. "Come on," said the Commander who had walked up to them.

"What are they doing to my dragon?" Artha asked harshly.

"Don't worry," the Commander said, which Artha found hard to do. "He's coming along with us."

"What do they have on him?" Artha demanded to know, never taking his eyes off Beau as he stood up.

The Commander gave him a confused look until Delilah explained. "He's - he's not from around here."

The Commander nodded, as if things like this happened to him every day, but for all Artha knew, they probably did. "Black jamming gear. It stops him from using his energy. It doesn't hurt him."

Artha glared at the jamming gear, hating it. Clearly a Word Paynn invention. Clearly made from the black shadow draconium. Draconium he had let Moordryd get away with so long ago…

"Come on, stand over here," the Commander guided them over to a spot closer to the other black shadow draconium gear. Artha eyed it warily.

All the light in the world couldn't have made it look beautiful, it would only succeed in making it look more sinister. It was a gear that bended space, built from the draconium that defied time. By rights, it shouldn't exist.

"Right. Now," Rancydd said as he moved his dragon to the teleportation gear. Artha tried to ignore him, feeling sick again. Rancydd's voice had become the symbol of what had happened to his brother, friends and father. Changed, both external and internal as well. Artha wondered how different they would be, when he found them again. That is, if he did mange to find them, and if they weren't dead. Artha felt sicker. "Start it up, Protyst."

"I've been waiting to," Lieutenant Colonel Protyst gave a slight mock bow and bent down to the base of the gear. Rancydd scowled at him, then addressed his troops.

"We'll be converging four hours east of the main Dragon Eye encampment on the border of the Purple Empire. When we arrive, I expect you all to fall back into your designated groups and squadrons. You three," Rancydd pointed at a few Dragon Eyes, who looked startled to be suddenly pointed at, "will be appointed guards over the prisoners until further orders." As Artha looked at them, he was dismayed to find that one of their guards was no other than the guard from before. His guard looked at him, and then grinned back.

Artha could feel Delilah tense and go rigid beside him. "What's wrong?" he whispered.

She shot him a quick glare. "We're being taken to one of their main camps! What makes you think we could escape from that? And what if the…Shadow Booster is there as well?"

Artha wished she would stop making him more nervous than he already was.

A soft, purple glow came from the teleportation gear, so slowly it took Artha a while to realize what was happening. The two metal prongs that stuck out at a diagonal angle acted as guides for a bright, purple light. As the light engulfed the prongs and shot from the ends, they met in mid air above the main base of the gear, a good five feet above Artha's head. From where the light hovered to down to the base of the gear, the space changed. No longer was Artha looking at the trees that made up that particular edge of the clearing and the leaf covered ground, but now he was looking at evergreen trees, the ground littered with their needles while a green mist seemed to hang in the warm air. Artha realized it was a door, a door to another place on the planet and a door that led them ever closer to the other Dragon Eyes.

While Artha and Beau's mouths were agape in astonishment, everyone else was indifferent.

The only empire that had initially used the teleportation gears was the Paynn Empire, who, after all, manufactured them. There were only a limited number of them in existence, since black shadow draconium was so rare to come by. Only three were in the known world, and one had been stolen from the Paynn Empire during a vicious battle. The Black Empire reigned victorious on that and used their newfound plunder to its full advantage. Most Dragon Eyes had seen it before, so they couldn't understand why Artha and Beau continued to stare at it like it was a three-eyed newt that had just granted them three wishes.

Delilah and Covert gazed at it as well, but not to Artha and Beau's extent, which Delilah was beginning to find a little embarrassing. She poked Artha in the side with her elbow; however, he continued to stare.

As the Dragon Eyes passed through, and after they had dragged a struggling Beau through as well, it was time for the other captives.

The Commander walked through just ahead of them, and as Artha stepped up to the teleportation gear, he heard a low humming coming from it. He stretched his hand out gingerly to where the 'portal' was. He expected a sensation of some kind. Stepping from one place to another miles upon miles away has to have some sort of feeling. Right?

Apparently not. As he stepped through, he felt nothing. It was just like taking any old step. Artha felt rather cheated and disappointed, but he did feel the difference in the weather. It was warmer here, mustier, and unlike the other forest in the Paynn Empire, there were no birds singing at all. The entire forest was silent.

His guard stepped through behind him, with the rope that bound Artha's hands tightly clasped in his own. Artha thought that if he tried to trip him again, he would just kick him back.

By the time the last of the Dragon Eyes had passed through the 'portal', Artha, Delilah and Covert were already well out of sight of the gear. The thick evergreens blocked most of Artha's view. This forest was by far more closed in than the one in the Paynn Empire. He heard the low hum of the gear shut off as it was dismantled.

Delilah gave him a sidelong look. Artha swallowed; he knew what was coming. If it was nearly impossible to escape from the Dragon Eyes now, how much more harder would it be when they reached the main group? Artha glared at the back of the Dragon Eye in front of him, focusing his attention on Beau's barely heard growls.

They had to break free soon. It would be near impossible once they reached the main encampment, _completely_ surrounded by Dragon Eyes and then some. Artha just wished he had an idea. His guard coughed behind him. Artha just wished they weren't completely surrounded right _now_.

--

The temple was full of moaning that day, for the first time in years. It was the moaning of the wounded and for some, the dying. The stink of flesh wounds hung in the air, and all the dragons and humans around had hope that it would be a few years yet until they had to smell it again. Unfortunately, it had happened that day.

"This is dreadful," Sycundys commented dryly.

"It is," said an orange dragon next to her. "After all the years, it has to start up again. The killing…"

"No," she said sharply, her human rider's tone evidently annoyed and displeased. "Not that. It was bound to happen soon. I mean how slowly we're dealing with this. How badly we were…beaten in that battle. We've become too soft. I should talk to Propheci about this. It must be rectified. More training hours must be put into effect."

"Of course."

The hall of the temple was filled with the injured from the recent battle where they were being tended to by their human prisoners as the officers of the Prophets looked on, occasionally barking commands and commenting on how slow and poorly handled everything was. Sycundys walked up and down the hall, watching them all with a critical gaze.

Tryaust lay on his side, slightly leaning against the cold, brown stone of the temple hall wall. Jyme was next to him, sewing up a gash on his left hind leg while Tryaust forced him to do it, just like a puppet. No matter how many times he was forced himself to do it, Tryaust would never find why the other Prophets found no fault with it. Tryaust practically lived for the days when he would be put on patrol, and if it was solitary, he would grant Jyme freedom, and then they would talk like normal beings should, aloud and unafraid. But until then, mind reading between his rider - his prisoner - would have to do.

Tryaust suddenly flinched as the needle Jyme was using accidentally punctured him too hard.

_Sorry, _came the immediate apology from his rider.

_About what? Didn't feel a thing._

Tryaust knew Jyme would be grinning, but his expressionless face bore no hint whatsoever. His face remained stoic beneath the helmet. Tryaust sighed angrily. Why was he still with the Prophets? Oh, right. Because the Gold Empire needed a spy. And because Jyme had agreed to it as well. Brave human.

The sound of sudden, running dragons filled the hall. At least five came rushing down the length of the cavern, running between the rows of injured dragons and riders who were carefully laying at the sides of the hall.

_Is he back?_

_Yes, _Tryaust answered Jyme, who couldn't turn his head to see. Allowing him to move more than he had to was looked down upon by the Prophets. He could get in trouble if anyone noticed the smallest gesture of kindness. Tryaust wondered how stiff Jyme's neck must be, having to sit still for hours and only move when necessary.

So while he guided Jyme to continue working, he watched as the five orange dragons, which included the newly arrived Propheci himself, come to a screeching halt at the far end of the cavern, to where Sycundys had over the course of the hour meandered off to.

_We should get closer._

Tryaust snorted, irritated that they had to stop and convene out of earshot. _You're right. I can't hear a thing they're saying._

_Well let's go then, _came Jyme's ever gung-ho attitude and tone. Tryaust had to marvel at how he managed to keep that up, even though he was quite literally a prisoner for most of his life. _I'm done with your leg, you should be able to walk on it without doing further damage._

Tryaust magged his impassive rider on an orange mag-stream, settling him down in the saddle with far more care than any normal Prophet would dream of giving. He winced as he got to his feet. He could feel Jyme's impatience to get closer to Propheci, and tried to go faster, and succeeded in putting far more weight on his leg than he otherwise would have liked to.

_Careful, _Jyme chided, _don't make me sew that up again._

_Ugh_, Tryaust replied and gritted his teeth against the pain. He limped down the hall, painfully aware of how slow he was going. They just _had_ to stop at the far end, didn't they?

Eventually, limping down the hall turned to something that could barely be called a walk as Tryaust's injured leg dragged along the floor as he put only the most minimal amount of weight on it. Several other orange dragons had left already or were in the process of leaving, some limping like Tryaust. The air was heavy with the smell of blood and sweat of the rest of the dragons who were too hurt to leave the temporary hospital this hall had turned into. The battle had been fierce and a total surprise, so the entire company of Prophets were momentarily forced into this abandoned outpost of theirs. Tryaust noticed that some dragons were sans their rider, and even one had gone so far as to bring her rider's dead body along with him. Even though riders were not to be considered their equals or to be shown kindness, lest they be accused of fraternizing with the enemies, most of these riders had once been someone special to the orange dragons. For most, that was too long ago to remember and too long ago to bother caring about, and for the rest, their riders were faceless humans caught in the middle of some night during a human raid. Hardly worth their consideration.

Tryaust took one last look at the dead rider in the saddle, just beginning to slip from his death perch. The orange dragon beneath quickly magged him back onto the saddle, allowing Tryaust to notice the gaping hole in the neck that had ended his life. He recognized the orange dragon; she was a delicate thing, and like Tryaust, her rider had once been an important part of her life, but during the battles and up to now had remained as indifferent to him as the rest of the Prophets were to their riders. It just goes to show, Tryaust reflected, that you never appreciated something until it was gone.

Then he heard Propheci's aggravated voice as he talked to the rest of his officers in the corner. Tryaust slowed down and pretended his leg pained him too much to walk any faster, angling towards them as he did so.

"…unstable. _Who_ was heading that?" Propheci purred to himself in thoughtfulness, then after a moment's consideration turned to a dragon next to him. "I believe it was you."

The Prophet officer to Propheci's left spoke up. "I called the retreat early. We didn't see their backup until too late. Had we stayed I would've lost more dragons than I did."

Propheci grimaced. "Perhaps that was for the best. Retaliation when the advantage is clearly…in the _hands_ of our enemies is a futile and foolish move." The other Prophets sneered at the word 'hands.' Humans.

"However," he continued, "regrouping as we did should not have taken nearly so long. If indeed the years of War have started again, we Prophets must once again triumph over the pitiful humans. There are many dragons that must be freed."

"Yes, death to the Paynn Empire," another Prophet standing with Propheci remarked in a monotone voice, almost sounding bored.

"We do not rest until all dragons have been freed and shown the true way! K-Oz, I want any dragons that are well enough to leave with you and scout our southern border. Any reports of any sightings of the Black Empire, or any empire, are to be reported _immediately_."

K-Oz nodded both his own head and his human's head. "Yes, Propheci."

"And Glyff," Propheci said without further acknowledgment to K-Oz. "I want to go over with you our new battle plans." The Mag-attack strategist straightened and nodded as well.

"Sycundys, organize our faithful troops here and then meet us in the Meeting Chamber. The rest of you have your duties." Propheci stalked off with Glyff following, leaving the other officers. Tryaust leaned against a column and pretended to be too hurt to walk any further for the moment. Following Propheci was too risky. As was staying where he was, but that couldn't be helped.

_Besides_, Jyme piped up in their connection, _we need to stay close to K-Oz. If he's going to take a team with him and scout out our borders, we have to be in that group. We'll have a better chance of relaying information to the others, and we'll be on top of what the other empires are doing._

Tryaust sighed, knowing full well that if any leader in any empire so much as sneezed near the Prophet's borders, K-Oz would know. He wasn't the Information Officer for nothing. Tryaust was just surprised that Propheci was sending him to scout out only their borders and to get an idea of their general movements instead of full out spying on the other empires and discovering what they were eating for breakfast.

Tryaust began to stretch his leg, then immediately wished he hadn't tried. The gash sent bolts of pain through his leg. He wondered whether he would get chosen for that group; they might say he was too injured to join.

Tryaust's attention was jerked back to the remaining officers, who hadn't moved. Sycundys had just snorted and paced around angrily.

One of the Prophets, Schizzm, Tryaust recognized, seemed slightly perturbed. She swung her head to look at K-Oz in the eye. "Well?" she asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

"Well what?"

Her tail flicked irritably. "Who are you choosing for your group? Sounds like Propheci wants you to leave immediately."

Tryaust and Jyme both groaned inwardly. If they were leaving soon it would be difficult for them to get chosen. Tryaust's leg would get no time to heal.

K-Oz stared at Schizzm with an expression on both his and his human's face that suggested extreme thinking, which looked rather comical. At length he replied, "…do _you_ want to come?"

Schizzm merely grunted in mounting annoyance while K-Oz put on a look of ignorant stupidity. As the Information Officer, nothing got by him, but it was always his motto to act as air-headed as possible so others underestimated him. When they fell for it, it did wonders when he needed to accomplish something; no one ever suspected him.

"Nooo," she replied sarcastically. Tryaust couldn't tell whether she was playing along or just fed up with K-Oz. It was clear to him that K-Oz particularly liked riling up Schizzm.

K-Oz's human began to speak, but was cut short by Sycundys. "Will you just pick your group? And I suggest that Schizzm stays here. We'll need all the officers possible, in case the Black Empire tries to attack again."

Schizzm and K-Oz looked at each other; K-Oz with a look of defeated fun and Schizzm with a look of a child who had just been denied a draconee-yum bar.

"And no arguing about that," Sycundys hissed and walked away. "Or if the Shadow Booster doesn't rip out your hearts in the next battle, I shall do it myself!"

"Mmm," K-Oz rumbled as she walked away down the hall between the wounded Prophets and out of ear shot. "I think she got turned down by Propheci again."

Schizzm rolled her eyes at K-Oz when he chuckled. "I dearly hope you meet up with the Shadow Booster when you're out scouting."

K-Oz began to feign a look of hurt, but then decided against it and grinned instead. "Won't happen. The Shadow Booster is to the north. He's visiting a well sized camp he has near the Purple Empire. He's probably busy sending out scouting parties from it. And I can assure you, the Purple Empire doesn't even know he's there." He gave her a wink. "In case Propheci decides to ask for your advice."

Schizzm looked at him. "How do you…" She trailed off and shook her head. How did K-Oz find anything out? He certainly wouldn't tell her. "Are you sure they don't know?"

He leered confidently. "Trust me. They don't know the camp is there. In fact, I'm pretty sure they don't even know the war is starting again. And I highly doubt they'll hear of our little skirmish here."

Schizzm held her head up high and huffed. "Of course that will certainly be of use in my tactics. Have you told Propheci yet?"

"Naturally. I've got my dragons in their empire. Why do you think I'm just heading on a scouting mission to the south? Everything else is nearly…what?" he suddenly snapped, his attention focused on something behind Schizzm. "Keep moving, soldier."

Tryaust jumped slightly and nodded slowly when K-Oz locked his glare onto him. He moved away slowly, overemphasizing his limp as an excuse as to why he hadn't been moving. K-Oz's eyes on his retreating back sent shivers racing through his spine. K-Oz was one of the single most dangerous Prophets to him. As the Information Officer, it was his job to gather intelligence on the surrounding empires, send out his spies and sniff out the spies within the Prophets themselves. It was vitally important for Tryaust to remain as inconspicuous as possible around him, but not too inconspicuous as to warrant suspicion. He walked a razor thin edge.

_You should lie down now, _Jyme said concernedly.

_But we need to find a way to contact the others. I don't know if they know about the Black Empire yet._

_If you don't strain yourself now, you'll have more chance of being picked for K-Oz's group._

Tryaust sighed. If he were to get in that group, they would have a great chance to contact the Gold Empire (being far from any Prophet base with the less chance of their signal from being picked up) and receive any information and instructions from them. It had been too long since he had last spoken to them. But since K-Oz would be right close by…they would have to chance it. The Gold Empire needed to know the Black Empire was moving again. They needed to be prepared for what would come.

The Shadow Booster and his Black Empire had rushed in fiercely to do battle with the unawares Prophets. And like in the past Years of War, he was still as violent and bloodthirsty as before, but now, perhaps more so. Tryaust grimaced. All of the empires had had time to recuperate during the Years of Rest, which included replenishing their supplies, training and recruiting new troops and so many other things. With all said and done, the new Years of War would be far more devastating than before.

--

His blue clad hand tightened around the handles while he looked out across the landscape. His dragon surveyed it as well, as intently as his rider. The current hot air blew relentlessly, but neither dragon nor rider moved. Behind them, their troop shifted restlessly. Though they were well-trained and their determination for their missions and their loyalty to him was unwavering, standing around outside in the hot sun for hours would put anyone in a sour mood. But none would move from their positions until they received the order.

The blue rider turned and looked back at them, and his glove came up in a motion that sent the troop racing ahead, charging behind their leader. He watched as the landscape quickly become a blur through his white visor as they rushed towards their goal. For they were rebels, in a way, and they responded to no one but their blue armored leader.

And the Energy Booster responded to no one but himself.

* * *

**A/N:** (1) - For those who might care about the fake names I stuck Delilah, Covert and Artha with: Lyga is from the Old English lyge for "a lie." I changed it slightly and added it with Speek, because they were speaking lies. And I called Covert, Sham, because that's what they were giving them. It was all a sham. I called Artha, Bob, because I didn't feeling like thinking something else up. :P And a heads up for all who might care, most of the names I add in here have a meaning behind them, not all, but most do. For some characters, the meaning is important. :P Figure it out, if you so desire.

(2) - Here Word's thinking about capturing Beau in the episode, The Stand, just in case I wasn't too clear about that reference. ;)


	16. Discovery

Look, it almost took me a year to update. This was actually written in the past two or so weeks, so for anyone who still remembers this story, here's the next chapter, nice and long. It's a bit more mature than the other chapters, due to violence and character death. Don't worry, it's not Beau.

_Discovery_

"Scales!"

"Indeed."

Skin literally growled under her breath as she turned on her heels sharply and forcefully brushed past Kyd, who then glared at her back and crossed his arms in a silent I've-been-mistreated-yet-again sort of pout. Skin stalked several meters away, and Edd felt the need to speak up again.

"So…"

"So this," Skin said darkly, regaining her composure, back still turned to them, "is what we do next."

Edd and Kyd waited, albeit a tad impatiently, in the forest. Dark clouds were starting to gather overhead, threatening them with rain. The trees began to sway more as the cold wind began to pick up, and as Edd and Kyd wished their jackets were at least a little thicker, they continued to wait for Skin to say something.

Her hands were clenched at her sides, and Edd could only begin to guess what she might be feeling. Their orders, directly from Word Paynn himself, were to kill the boy, Artha Penn, and his dragon. The girl and boy with them were to be taken back to Word. Simple enough, Edd supposed, since it was them three against a boy, one dragon, a girl and an even younger boy. Three against two and a half, or perhaps just one and a half, considering how low their skill levels must be, and how high their own were. They wouldn't be any trouble at all.

Of course, the Dragon Eyes loved to make their plans more complicated. Edd sighed. Of all the times to come down from the north and stir the war up again, it just had to be now, and it just had to happen right in front of them. Although it wouldn't be as bad if they hadn't taken their prisoners through black shadow teleportation gear, where they couldn't be followed.

Skin, apparently still in thought of what to actually do next since their quarry had disappeared, continued t o stand perfectly still.

"Well," Kyd started after he had kicked all stones within his immediately vicinity at Edd for no other reason than he was bored, licked his lips nervously and continued, "I guess we'll have to call Word Paynn then and…"

He gulped suddenly and cringed behind Edd as Skin whipped her head around and glared daggers at him with one eye, which did the job twice as well as two. "Call Word Paynn? We…we are not in that position right now. This problem can still be rectified."

"…so you know how we can find them?" Kyd ventured to guess.

Skin tilted her head as she looked back at their waiting wraiths, giving her explanation without looking at them, thinking deeply while she spoke. "Black shadow teleportation gear is specifically designed to allow a complete and fool proof escape route. Following them is impossible without our own teleportation gear to analyze their leftover energy waves, which would be completely gone if we did manage to go back to Word and get the gear."

Edd frowned while Kyd shifted." So how can this problem still be fixed?"

Skin then looked at them, her eye patch catching the last of the light as the storm clouds fully rolled in and lighting brightened up the distant skies. "Word Paynn said that this Artha is right now his most important objective, exceeding all others."

"Why?" Kyd asked. "He's just a boy."

"He did not tell me," Skin admitted, shocking both Edd and Kyd. "All we know is that any means necessary, and I mean any, he is to die. Now the Black Empire has taken him. We will make contact with them and tell them to kill Artha and his dragon. Surely a deal can be made. We will have his dead body soon."

Kyd sighed and hunched down into his jacket. "I'm guessing we have to find a way to contact them without letting Word know?"

"Word Paynn has entrusted this task to me, and I will not return without completion," Skin said sharply. "When we return, we will have Artha's head and nothing less."

She mounted her wraith with practiced ease and galloped off, leaving a stumbling Edd and Kyd to keep up.

* * *

The weather was damp, musty and overall unbearable. It was humid, and it was also one of many things Artha found himself complaining about. The rope currently tied behind his hands was itchy and tight, the post he was tied to was giving him splinters, he was missing good ol' draconium supports and wishing wood would stay in the forests and not in this tent (which was rather nice, he had to admit). But overall, what really irked him was the failure of his escape attempt, if it could even be called that.

Perhaps he had been doomed from the beginning, since the Dragon Eyes made sure Beau was too far from him to be of any aid, and what aid that could possibly be, Artha didn't know, since Beau was far more guarded than they. Artha had actually managed to run through the trees and out of sight of his captors after he had kicked his guard in a place that had delivered a very satisfying shriek of pain to Artha's ears. Unfortunately, the desperation he had been running on only allowed himself seconds of freedom before other guards tackled him from behind. And now he was stuck in this tent with Delilah and Covert, all three tied to the large post in the middle of the tent with at least two guards standing outside.

Artha hung his head. Even his nose itched and he couldn't even scratch it.

Delilah was to his right and squirming around quite a bit. Artha almost felt like telling her to stop, except he was busy wallowing in self pity and didn't have the energy. He had long ago stopped being able to hear Beau's roars, and the worry for him was growing larger, and so was his sense of failure. He had no mag charge left in him, otherwise he would have used it long ago.

He sighed. In the clutches of the Dragon Eyes. If they found out who he was, it was over. Even if they didn't, Artha's hope for freedom wasn't burning too bright at the moment. He had run out of options.

The guards at the entrance to the tent laughed at a joke they had made, apparently not considering their prisoners within to be of much importance to warrant any more of their attention than was necessary. Which was a good thing if Artha thought he could escape. From bonds that he knew he couldn't get out of (he had tried and only succeeded in chafing his wrists). Not to mention he was In the middle of a large enemy camp with the sun burning merrily away high in the sky. Things were not hopeful.

But then Delilah stopped squirming, and Artha had one less thing to check off on his new list of things that annoyed him. Delilah turned her head to look at him and grinned.

"What?" Artha asked flatly. "Did you get your wrists to hurt as much as mine, or is the entire situation somehow funny to yo…"

"Oh be quiet," she interrupted. "I want to be in this place just as much as you do."

"Which is not very much at all,' Artha pointed out.

"Exactly, so instead of sulking," she said while Artha began to verbally disagree with her on that one, "I've been trying to get us out of here."

"What? Really? After all your talk of, 'it's impossible to get free from the Dragon Eyes camp. No one has done it before.'"

"Well," she started with a frown. "I know I said that, but just because it's impossible doesn't mean we can't try."

Artha stared at her blandly for a second. "What's the point?"

"The point?" Deliah echoed. "The point…is that we didn't go down without a fight. I'm not going to die here, or stay here for the rest of my life or do whatever it is they do with prisoners. We have to help stop the war," she added in as an afterthought almost. "However big a part we may actually play in that."

"No," Artha said, and looked again to the entrance of the tent, and for a moment, Delilah thought he disagreed with her again. "We are going to make a difference in this war." He looked at her again and added, "a big one."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "A big one," she repeated skeptically. "Not overestimating yourself, are we?"

It was Artha's turn to grin at her. "Nope. I'm going to stop it. And I'll need Covert's and your help. Right Covert?"

Artha looked to his left, where Covert looked at him for a few seconds before breaking into a wide smile and nodding. Delilah's suspicious and confused face went unnoticed by Artha as he smiled back at Covert, glad of having his support.

"So," he said, turning back to Delilah, who smoothed her features into a blank expression. "What were you saying about trying to get out of here?"

"Firstly, keep your voice down," she said silently, glancing towards the entrance. Artha clamped his mouth shut. "And secondly, I've already gotten out of the ropes."

"What?" Artha barely remembered to whisper. "How?"

Delilah grinned. "I slipped out. It hurt, but I'm free."

Artha nodded. So that's why she had been squirming and wriggling. Now it didn't seem so annoying anymore, and he wondered why he hadn't come to that conclusion before. "Now what? Wait for nightfall?"

Delilah looked worried as she thought about it. She shook her head. "Too much can happen before then. Besides, nightfall might be when they decide to…question us."

"They could question us now, or wait another day to do it. Besides, if it's nightfall we can sneak around camp. We have to find Beau," he reminded her, in case she had forgotten.

"I really don't think we should stay here longer than we need to."

'We can't walk around camp in broad daylight. They'll see us!" Artha vehemently argued. "They aren't blind, Delilah!"

"It doesn't matter if they see us," Delilah said, licking her lips in worry and thought. The corner of Artha's mouth twitched. This was no time to panic; they had to wait until the right time.

"What do you mean?" he demanded.

"I mean," she said somewhat exasperatedly, "that we can slip through them unnoticed. We can put Dragon Eye symbols on ourselves and dress up in some of their gear. We don't need to wait for night."

"You expect us to…dress up as them?" Artha said almost dubiously. It certainly had potential, but it also had risks, more so than if they went with his idea, he thought.

"I expect us to do something," Delilah said with more force than before. "And soon."

Artha shook his head. But night will conceal us better."

"Trust me, Artha," Delilah hissed. "You do not want to be a prisoner of the Dragon Eyes longer than necessary. Please, we have to leave now!"

"We have no idea where Beau is, someone will see us! And recognize us! I don't know about you, but I didn't see anyone our age here, did you? Well stick out. When it's dark-"

"When its dark we die. Or worse," Delilah announced seriously. Artha shook his head again.

"It's too risky."

"Staying here is too risky," Delilah said, her eyes wide and uneasy. "We can slip out of the tent. We can…come on, it's a good plan."

"It's a stupid plan," Artha retorted.

Delilah bit her lower lip. "We can't stay here, Artha. They'll come soon."

Artha sighed. "Trust me. We'll have a better chance if we go tonight." Covert watched them both, for the moment ignored and completely unafraid of their surroundings. He pursed his lips in thought.

"Please."

Artha looked away from Delilah, away from her pleading eyes and obviously scared expression. "I don't really know too much of the Dragon Eye Empire, and I know I'm not as afraid of them as you, and maybe I should be. But one of us has to keep a cool head here."

Delilah looked at him for another moment, feeling overlooked, and then looked at the ground, her eyes filling with desperation.

"You're right," she said. "You don't know." Artha looked sideways at her as she looked back at him. "I…if you wo-"

The ground shook, really shook, at the same time a monstrous sound, an explosion Artha realized, sounded. Then before the tremors from the first explosion subsided, another came, though less intense. The three captives looked around wildly. Artha thought he asked 'what,' but wasn't quite sure the sound made it from his mouth. His ears were still ringing. Battle cries could be heard and the pounding of feet, both human and dragon, as they raced past their tent and to the source of the noise.

The guards stuck their heads quickly into the tent, glaring at the rattled prisoners, before shouting something to each other and rushing off.

"What?" Artha repeated, hearing himself this time.

"An attack?" Delilah asked shakily, then stronger, "an attack! It was an attack, Artha!"

He glanced at her. "What?" he asked again, bewildered.

"An attack!" she repeated, smiling this time and stood up and ripped the remains of the rope from her wrists.

"An awhat…hey, get back down! Delilah-"

"It's an attack Artha," she said, bending down beside him and untying his bonds. "You can hear the fighting."

Artha listened, hearing the screams, calls, roars, clanging and distinct sound of mag energy being thrown about. Then it hit him. "It's-"

"A great distraction, for us," Delilah said, grinning widely, and moved to free Covert. Artha shot to his feet.

"It is," he breathed, realization dawning on him.

"And it sounds like a big one," Delilah almost chuckled. "The whole camp will be busy!"

"Yes, yes!" Artha laughed. Who had time to pay attention to some lowly prisoners when a battle was brewing? A battle… "But, we have to be careful."

Delilah nodded and grabbed Covert's hand tightly, pulling him up. "Of course." She looked at him, full of rushing adrenaline. "Let's find your dragon, and quickly."

"Beau," Artha said grinning, reminding her that his dragon had a name. "And…and I know where he is. Come on."

Artha ran to the entrance to the tent, knowing which direction Beau was, almost feeling his dragon through the bond. A slightly confused Delilah followed him. "You do?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. "Now no questions." He grabbed her hand and pulled her after him as he ducked out of the tent, looking at the running Dragon Eyes, all heading to the growing conflict and ignorant of the three.

Artha had no time to listen to the battle, the screams or to smell the growing smoke. He knew where Beau was. He dodged the running Dragon Eyes, with Delilah and Covert running behind him. Beau was getting closer, they were going to get out.

As they left behind the tent in which they had been imprisoned, a figure quickly strode up to the tent after dismounting his dragon, Luutt. He thrust aside the tent flaps and marched in, only to stop in surprise at the empty tent and tangled pile of forgotten rope. Rancydd yelled and clenched his fists and marched back to Luutt, who immediately magged him on.

That prisoner, that boy…that dragon…. Rancydd shook his head, unbelieving. Mere minutes before, the Shadow Booster had contacted him, and in a deep voice had ordered Artha Penn to be waiting for him when he arrived. Rancydd had nearly gone into shock. He hadn't been seeing a ghost. It really was…but how?

He shook his head. How indeed? But wondering how on Draconis Artha Penn was alive and at age sixteen still, and wondering how the Shadow Booster knew of it would not recapture him. Rancydd looked straight, looking for their retreating backs, but saw nothing.

How indeed.

* * *

"Ssshhh!"

"I am ssshhhh!" Artha hissed under his breath as Beau and he carefully stuck their heads out of the tent and glanced madly around. Getting in the tent where Beau was imprisoned had been easy. Knocking out the lone, unsuspecting guard was easy, and Artha wouldn't have guessed Delilah could punch that hard. Taking off the gear was also easy, but sneaking Beau out of the tent and into the woods beyond the camp perimeter? That would be tough. And to top it all off, Covert was giving, of all things, a little temper tantrum. Though it was silent, he was obstinate; flinging his fists this way and that, and managed to give Artha a bit of a bruise on his jaw. He let Delilah calm him down while Beau and he peered out of the tent. Already the sounds of the battle were dying down, and could end at any time. They had to move. Perhaps a flat out run to freedom would be best.

"Covert, stop it!" Delilah said, growing impatient with his behavior. "Not now. Please not now!"

"We'll just run for it, I guess," Artha said as he and Beau took one last glance around before bringing their heads back into the tent. His heart was pumping madly as he mounted Beau. Beau magged on Delilah and a squirming Covert. "What's his problem?" Artha asked.

"He's…scared I guess…what'd you say about running?"

"Oh, yeah. We'll just run for it. We're running out of time."

"Whatever, can we just get out of here?"

"Sure thing." Artha looked ahead and adjusted his helmet. "Ready boy?" Beau nodded his head and narrowed his eyes. "Well jump out and take them by surprise," Artha began to say, but was interrupted by a loud wailing.

"What is that?" he demanded, turning around and clamped his hands over his ears.

"Covert!" Delilah yelled. "Quiet!"

Covert, sitting on Beau just in front of Delilah, was yelling. Not crying, just yelling his heart out, with his eyes closed tight in an effort to yell and scream as loud as he could. Artha looked to the front of the tent. Shadows were moving in, signaling that the element of surprise was lost. Voices of confusion, suspicion and curiosity flowed from the approaching Dragon Eyes.

"Go boy, go!"

Beau let his roar mingle with Covert's high-pitched screaming until it overpowered it and left Artha's ears ringing yet again. Then he took a flying leap out of the tent, while Artha filled his hands with golden energy.

Rancydd jerked Luutt's handles, avoiding the Dragon Eyes in his way, then pushed them forward when he got impatient and left them dodging for their safety. The screaming had caught his attention immediately, since the noise of the battle was clear on the other side of the large camp, and as such was quiet enough for Rancydd to pick out the distinct noise coming from Covert. He knew of only one child in the camp, and that was one of the prisoners.

And where this child was, so was Artha Penn. He gritted his teeth, still in disbelief.

When the screaming got louder and he was nearly sure he was very close by, a roar sounded, alerting Rancydd to where he was. The tent where the dragon had been housed…oh scales.

A gold blurr leapt out of the tent with a thunder of a roar, and suddenly two mag streams picked up and threw the closest Dragon Eyes away, the dragon never once stopping and already running in a clear direction. Years of training had quickened Rancyyd's reflexes, and his own mag push barely missed the rider of the dragon.

Artha Penn ducked and looked at him, and before he had disappeared behind some tents on his speeding dragon, Rancydd saw quite clearly his face, his quite unchanged face. His own face turning whiter than the snow that fell in the North, Rancydd's dragon rushed forward unbidden, giving hot pursuit. Rancydd crouched low in his saddle and activated his viddscreen.

"High alert on escaping prisoners, heading north east on a clear route out. Demanding immediate backup!"

* * *

Running through the camp was surprisingly easy. Quite quickly the crowd of Dragon Eyes had thinned drastically, and Artha no longer had to concentrate on mag pushing them out of Beau's way, lest they be run over. Artha had never been so happy in his life for distractions that worked in his favour. He had no time to think of the lives that were undisputedly being lost in the battle, focused so clearly on his own freedom, mere seconds away. And then, they jumped past the last of the tents and fortifications, and dashed through the trees.

Artha yelled happily as Beau roared in success as they wound their way through the trees. He looked behind themselves, where no discernable pursuer was visible. "I think we made it! We did it! Right Delilah?"

Delilah looked behind for a split second before tightening her grip on the back of the saddle. "We aren't clear until we're further away. They can still send people after us."

Beau ran faster, eager to put as much distance between themselves and the camp as possible. He slid down a slight hill, stirring up leaves and dirt as he went down.

"How's Covert?" Artha asked, keeping a sharp eye on their surroundings.

Delilah paused before answering. "Better I guess. I don't know why he did that."

"Well let's ask him when we're a bit further away," Artha responded with a very displeased frown, fully intending to do so.

Beau burst through a thicket of trees into a small clearing, and increased his speed. For a moment, Artha watched the approaching tree line grow as it grew closer, then in curiosity, glanced back. His eyes widened.

"Woah," he gulped, suddenly feeling quite small.

Thick, black smoke rose into the sky, briefly lighting up as purple and blue mag energy streaked through it. At times, when the mag stream was obviously not belonging to a quick mag push, the plume of smoke glowed incredibly bright with that one colour, looking almost ereathral, and Artha could only guess at what mag moves where being preformed to create such an intense glow. As the trees once again prohibited a clear view of the sky, Artha tightened his grip on the handles and turned forward again. Delilah remained indifferent to the spectacle, focusing only keeping her balance for dear life.

It was an hour later when Beau finally slowed to a walk. A deep ravine housed rapid waters to their left.. He made sure to stay well away from it, feeling only the slightest sense of unease coming from the deep drop.

Artha panted as he patted Beau's head, who rolled his tongue out in response. "See?" he said. "We…no one followed us."

Rylada nodded, and then chuckled. "They had bigger problems to worry about." For no other reason than it felt good to smile after such an ordeal, Artha threw his head back and laughed, the whole situation strangely hilarious. Delilah laughed with him while Covert seemed to alternate between pouting and being confused. Beau was simply too tired to do anything but glance up at them.

As the laughter subsided, Artha looked down at Covert. Delilah sensed the change in mood and lowered her head.

"He gave our position away," Artha began instantly, his voice dripping with admonishment. "I mean, we're lucky we had all the gear off of Beau when he-"

"I know," Delilah snapped, shaking slightly. After having been so nearly caught back in the camp, her nerves hadn't yet calmed down. The Dragon Eye Empire was nothing to be brushed off so easily, something which Delilah was sure Artha would soon learn. "Do you think I was happy about his timing? Or that he did that at all?"

Artha backed down and concentrated his attention specifically on Covert, who avoided eye contact with both of them. "I thought you said he was mute?" Artha pointed out.

"Not mute," Delilah said. "He has no tongue."

"Oh…oh," Artha said, unable to think of anything else. After a pause, he asked, "why?"

"Someone cut it out," came the flat answer.

"Who would do that?"

Delilah glared at an imaginary spot on the horizon, before replying in a very stubborn tone. "I'd rather not say."

"But, you lied to me before. About him being mut-"

"I know," she said, "it was just easier to say that. You must have heard him laugh before now."

"Rarely," Artha muttered as he faced the front again. And awkward silence followed, broken only by the sound of the rushing water flowing nearly a hundred meters down on their left. Beau took a path that veered away from the deep ravine and once again into the forest, but suddenly stopped and lifted his head.

"Beau, what?" Artha asked, looking around himself. A hard mag push suddenly exploded onto Beau's side, sending them all flying a good deal away. Everyone fell from Beau's back and crashed hard onto the ground. Artha coughed from the rising dust and looked up. Beside him, both Delilah and Covert groaned and lifted their faces from the ground. Beau growled at their attacker, and immediately stood in a weak fighting stance, breathing heavily, digging his claws into the earth.

"Nice try," Rancydd said, his tone implying that it wasn't really at all.

Artha gasped at him before understanding kicked in with a swift blow. "Rancydd," he breathed, coughing halfway through the name. Rancydd sat on Luutt, at the beginning of the clearing, his hands clutching the handles expertly.

"Yes, yes it is. And such a surprising turn of events…Artha Penn."

Artha narrowed his eyes in confusion. Rancydd's tone of voice was hard and sounded very much like he was incomplete control of the unusual situation, but his expression told a whole other story. He couldn't have possibly looked more shocked than he did at that moment. For a few agonizingly quiet minutes, they stared at each other. Rancydd in utter bewilderment still, and Artha, who looked frightened and like he was about to throw up at any given moment. Delilah bored her eyes into the side of Artha's head, not quite daring to say anything, even though she had quite a few questions and choice words for him. Beau's growl had lowered into decimals too low for human hearing, and had his own staring contest with Luutt, who looked about as stunned as Racnydd, though she did hide it better to a certain degree.

What broke the spell suspended between them all was the rustling sound as Covert got to his feet and whimpered. Rancydd's eyes immediately turned to him, now full of duty. "This," he began slowly and looked back to Artha, who gazed back defiantly now, "is where you all surrender and come with me."

"I don't think so. I don't know what's going on-" Artha began, ignoring Delilah's whisper of 'that makes two of us,' "-but I'm going to find out. Let us go."

Rancydd shook his head. "Shadow Booster won't be too happy if I let you go. He's rather determined to have you, as you can well imagine. You owe him…explanations." Rancydd looked him up and down, indicating that he too was to have some answers before all this was over.

"Look," Artha said, "I know you must both be confused, but I can't stay and chat." He left out mention of his own confusion of how the Shadow Booster had discovered him.

Rancydd sneered and readied his blocking staff, on which the ends popped out into foot long blades with an audible slicing sound. Artha's bravado dropped a few points. Then his heroism kicked in. This was real danger, and he'd be scaled if he let anyone get hurt, or allow himself to get recaptured. He was getting closer to the Gold Empire, closer to his dad and brother, closer to stopping this war, and closer to having everything make sense again. He was not going to lose. Under no circumstances was he going back with Rancydd!

Artha stood as Delilah pulled Covert back with her a few steps. "Turn around and go back. Don't make me fight you, because I don't intend to lose!"

"Perhaps you haven't noticed, Penn, but I possess the skills, experience, training and strength to take you back without so much of a struggle on your part. You fight me and I guarantee one of you will get hurt. Their _blood_ will be on your head!"

"No!" Artha yelled. "There will be NO bloodshed, Rancydd. I will fight you, but I won't hurt you."

Rancydd scoffed. "I highly doubt you can manage that." Luutt intensified her gaze on Beau and sent Rancydd flying with a mag stream. He balanced on the top twenty feet above them, holding his staff with one hand while the other quickly shot out a mag push directly at Delilah and Covert.

Delilah screamed and jumped back, red blood staining her right shoulder where the mag push had merely grazed her skin. Artha stared in shock at them, first at the fact that Rancydd could handle mag energy now, then at the fact that he had not fired at him, but Delilah and Covert, and then at the fact that she was bleeding, and that the ground behind her where the mag push had actually landed was now charred and smoking.

"As I said before," Rancydd said, bringing Artha's attention to him. His head dipped forward threateningly. "Their blood and possible death is now on your head. You don't know the danger you're putting them in."

"I can take you!" Artha shouted defiantly, putting up his fists, severely missing his blocking staff. "Delilah, take Covert and run!"

"Are you crazy? He'll kill us before we take a few steps!"

"I can stop him!"

"You are crazy!"

"Is this really a wise move, Artha Penn?" Rancydd yelled and fired off another mag push, hitting Covert on his leg. Beau's mag stream, intended to intercept Rancydd's, had been too slow, and he powered down again, sinking low to the ground.

"Covert! Beau!" Artha yelled, surprised at how quickly the situation had become very dangerous. Covert began bawling as he held his leg tight, blood seeping between his fingers. Delilah held him close, keeping her eyes on Rancydd.

"Wrong choice, hero," Rancydd sneered, grabbing his staff with two hands. He charged down to Artha.

Beau leapt tiredly in front of Delilah and Covert, roaring at Luutt as he regained his strength. Luutt hissed in reply and darted along the treeline, circling round them. Beau sent out a mag stream to Artha, who fired off two mag pushes at Rancydd as he quickly came down, having no time to do anything else. The mag pushes were easily blocked with the staff, and then the staff itself, blades whistling through the air, came down at him.

Artha jumped backwards, but far too slowly. The sharp blade fell upon his face, and then Rancydd's boot knocked him flat on his back. Beau roared in unprecedented anger, but was unable to leave his position without putting Delilah and Covert in danger.

As Artha fell on the ground, his breath was knocked out, and while his lungs were desperately trying to draw air, Rancydd brought the blade down in a blur, stabbing his left foot and burying the tip of the blade into the ground, effectively pinning him there. Artha tried to scream, but no sound came. His vision began to turn white from the pain and lack of air. He noticed Rancydd's lips moving, but couldn't make out the words clear enough to understand.

Beau roared again as he sent out an incredibly powerful mag push, too fast for Rancydd to block, knocking him well into the trees. Luutt stepped back, having only heard a dragon roar like that a few times in her life, and neither time ended well, for all parties involved. Beau growled dangerously and crouched low to the ground, now ready for anything, now that he knew what the rules of the game were. He watched Rancydd and Luutt carefully, waiting for their next move and wondering all the while how he could help Artha. Behind him Covert continued to cry while Delilah rocked him back and forth.

Artha suddenly took in the deepest breath he had ever taken, and used that to scream. He lifted his head and saw the imbedded blade, and screamed again, trying desperately, and failing, to stifle his yelling. Hot tears ran down his face.

"As I said," Rancydd panted as he stood, favouring his right wrist, "bloodshed. One more chance to surrender."

Artha shut his eyes tight against the pain. "N…no. I… I c-can't." He opened his eyes and stared at Rancydd, who stood behind a large tree, keeping it between Beau and him.

He saw Rancydd grimace in displeasure, then sigh irritably and shake his head. "Only making it harder, Penn." He turned his attention to Beau, intent on subduing him next. Luutt also turned to Beau, and continued circling to get on his other side. Artha cried as he moved his foot and tried to rise to his elbows. Then something unexpected happened.

Rancydd, partially blocked by the tree he was standing behind, suddenly jerked and let go of his mag energy and staff. He opened his mouth in astonishment and stared wide eyed at the empty space before him. He slowly dropped to his knees, then fell forward as he was pushed from behind, his arms splayed out in the dirt around him. Artha saw a dark stain spreading on his back, stemming from a hole in his jacket. From behind the tree stepped Protyst, holding a staff similar to Rancydd's, but displaying a red tip. Protyst eyed the dead body for a second, reveling in his victory, then turned his attention on Luutt.

Luutt's eyes were wide in utter disbelief. Her entire body was frozen in the act of creeping closer to Beau, one forepaw still held in the air, now forgotten. Her gaze turned to instant rage and shifted to Protyst, who shook his head as he tsked at her and pressed a button on his wristcomm. Luutt bounded to him, surprising him with her speed. He frantically pushed the button repeatedly as the charging dragon closed on him. From out of the trees several black mag cables attached themselves to her hind flank and drew tight, effectively stopping her as she ran and flung her to the ground. She attempted to get up, but roared weakly as the energy was drained from her. Protyst spared his dragon a sharp glare for being late before he nonchalantly bent down and wiped the end of his staff on Rancydd's jacket.

Artha's jaw was agape as he watched Protyst. Beau too was stunned, to say the least, and moved as if to help Luutt, but remained still, worried that if he did free her, Protyst would be killed, and Beau was not about to let someone else get hurt. So he remained where he was, wondered what exactly Protyst was up to, and attempting to get over the shock of Rancydd's abrupt death.

"What?" Artha croaked, blood flowing down his face from the gash Rancydd's blade has initially inflicted. "Why?"

Protyst walked over to Luutt and patted her on the head, which did nothing other than increase her rage and her struggle, which weakened her further.

"Ah, Artha, Artha, Artha," Protyst hummed to himself and strode over to Artha's injured body. "That was rather foolish of you, taking on a colonel like Rancydd while your dragon was exhausted."

"Beau doesn't get exhausted from a little run, he's t-tougher than th-that," Artha gritted out between his teeth, watching Protyst warily. Protyst stopped at Artha's feet and looked down at him, obviously beyond pleased with himself. Artha grunted from the constant pain his foot and face were in, and managed to say, with as much contempt as he could, "you killed him. You scale-scrapper!"

Protyst laughed. "Now's there's one I haven't heard in a long time!"

"You killed him!"

"I'll have to agree with you on that point."

"Why?" Artha yelled.

Protyst smirked down at him, tapping the blade of his staff against his foot. "Rancydd was my superior, and because of that, I had to eliminate him. He was one of the few Dragon Eyes that followed the Shadow Booster from the very beginning. Being colonel is just a, I suppose a sort of thank you for all the years of loyalty for him. He didn't deserve it. I did. "

"So you killed him?" Artha choked.

"He's not the first," Protyst said offhandedly. "I suppose you're wondering what happens to you all now." He gazed at each of them in turn, stopping on Beau. He narrowed his eyes while Beau glared at him. "Artha, you and your dragon will come back with me and you can pay a little visit to the Shadow Booster. Those two behind your dragon, well, I haven't quite decided yet. It all depends on whether you choose to come quietly, Artha."

Artha let his head drop back onto the ground heavily and closed his eyes, trying to think against all the pain. Was this it? He couldn't even move without his vision blurring up, let alone fight. He couldn't just give up, but he also had to think about Delilah and Covert's safety, something he hadn't when Rancydd first attacked. Now he knew what could happen, and he wasn't sure he wanted to take that chance.

He opened his eyes and saw that Protyst had taken his silence to mean that he would comply. Protyst had detached all the cables from Luutt, who was now too drained of energy to move. She lay on the ground, breathing heavily. Beau watched Artha, while his eyes flitted to Luutt every few seconds. Artha could tell he was wondering what they were going to do. Usually, Artha would be confident they could win, but he was wounded, unlike anything he had been through before, and as for Protyst, well, they didn't know his fighting styles. They weren't sure what he could do. Perhaps he was as skilled, if not more skilled, than they. That was certainly a possibility. And he was not afraid to kill. Any resistance from Artha could very well mean the death of Covert and Delilah.

With all the thoughts swirling through his head, Artha swiped away the blood leaking into his eyes, and then saw something he did not want to see. Protyst had removed all the cables from Luutt, and now stood at her head. He was already surrounded by glowing mag energy, and was beginning to form it in one of his hands, which he had poised directly at her head.

"What are you doing?" Artha cried.

Protyst didn't even spare him a glance. "What does it look like? You think I'm dragging her back? She's a witness."

When Protyst began drawing his hand back further and tensing his body for the release of a powerful and deadly mag push, Artha had no doubt in his mind of what to do. True, he had to remember to protect Covert and Delilah, and his actions may very well mean danger to them all, but that didn't mean he would ever stand by and watch another die. What kind of Dragon Booster was he then?

He sat up with a grunt of pain and turned to Beau, lifting out his hand. Beau complied and sent a stream of mag energy, which caused him to cry out as the coursing energy seemed to electrify his pain. Almost blindly, he let out a mag push just as Protyst paused to look over at him. Protyst was knocked back a couple of steps, and it took a few seconds before he seemed o know what Artha had just done. Then he laughed.

"Very well, then, I'll deal with you first, since you're so eager," Protyst added with a twisted smirk as he walked over. He glanced up at Beau.

"You won't kill me," Artha said. "And Beau won't let you come any closer."

Protyst gave a sharp laugh. "No dragon has bested me before."

"You haven't met Beau before."

Protyst stopped a few paces from Artha and faced Beau. He sighed and tapped a few buttons on his wristcomm. His dragon slowly ambled over to Beau, looking for a good position in which to attach the cables. Beau stood his ground and watched him warily. Artha heard Protyst mutter something about failing to bring along black jamming gear before he moved out of earshot as he stalked closer to Beau on the opposite side as his dragon was. His hands filled with energy. Beau roared and sent a stream out to the other dragon, lifting him up and throwing him into the trees. At the same time, Protyst lifted his own hands to fire at Beau, which Artha had been anticipating.

Artha used the last bit of energy he had stored in himself and created a large mag push and sent it flying towards Protyst. It hit him and sent him landing mere meters away from the ravine's edge. Protyst was on his feet in a flash, glaring at Artha, obviously having not expected Artha to have any more energy left in him. Beau roared and sent several mag pushes at Protyst, who dodged them easily, and even sent a few flying back via his staff.

Beau then separated his mag energy. He continued to try to hit Protyst with mag pushes while he also gave Artha a mag stream. Artha filled himself with the energy, doing his best to ignore the pain, which wasn't easy. The world tilted, and when Artha brought up a hand to form a mag pull, his couldn't keep his hand steady. Beau sensed Artha's distress, and doubled his efforts to hit Protyst, who began showing signs of exertion.

"Enough!" he screamed and jumped behind a tree for a break from the onslaught of energy.

Artha's world went momentarily dark as blood and sweat dripped into his eyes. He wiped them clean and fell back onto the ground, breathing heavily. The pain was just too intense, and the cut on his face had to be deeper than he thought. When Beau looked over at Artha in worry, it was then that Protyst pounced.

He leapt from behind the tree with his elbows bent and his hands up and clenched into fists. He thrust them down and let loose a mag pulse. Artha screamed as the blade was wrenched from his foot and as he was thrown back, hearing nothing but his own yells. The world seemed to swirl around him, and he realized that he must have stopped tumbling and must be lying still. He tried to focus, but couldn't tell what was going on. Far too slowly, his vision cleared, and he saw a blurry vision of Protyst squaring off against Beau. Every so often there would seem to be two of everybody, and nothing ever stood still enough for Artha to identify what was really going on.

But he was able to make out the main shapes. Protyst, glowing purple, and the larger shape had to be Beau, who abruptly disappeared. Where did he go? Amidst the thrumming of the blood pounding in his ears, Artha heard Delilah scream, and a dragon that was not Beau roar. He saw the dim shape that was Protyst lift his hands as the screaming intensified. Somehow Artha knew it was now or never.

He gathered all the mag charge he had let into his hands and fired it at Protyst, praying that he hit him. Then he blacked out.

* * *

Something touched Artha's face, something wet and warm. He tiredly opened his eyes and squinted them at the sudden brightness, even though it was getting dark outside. Disembodied voices rose in volume until he could make out the words.

"…not dead?"

"What?" Artha moaned, opening his eyes further as the world came into view. Beau looked poised to lick his face again, while Delilah looked at him worriedly, brushing hair from her face.

"I said, not dead…are you?"

"Can't be. 'M talking," Artha mumbled. Delilah smiled. "What happened?"

"Well for starters, everyone's okay…sort of," she said, tilting her head towards Artha's foot. "That's the worst of our injuries."

"But what happened? Did I…I remember trying to hit…did I hit him?"

"Did you ever! I mean, when I looked over at you after you hit Protyst, you were already out cold. A shot in the dark. A very lucky shot." She chuckled. Artha cracked a smile.

"Protyst's dragon managed to hit Beau a bit, but he's shook it off. Didn't you?" Rylada smiled and rubbed Beau on his nose. He grinned under the praise and stretched his neck as if to say, of course I did. "Then that dragon went running as soon as Protyst went over the edge, the chicken."

Artha's smiled faded slowly. "Went over the edge? You mean…" Artha tried to sit up, but was met with a wave of pain and nausea.

"Hold it," Delilah said concernedly.

"No," Artha groaned. "Is he alright?" When he tried to sit up again, the pain was less intense, and he managed to rest on his elbows. He glanced around before finding the edge of the deep ravine, a large cut in the now scorched earth.

"Alright?" Delilah echoed, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. "Of course not. That ravine has to be, what? Hundred feet deep? More?" She looked at Artha's expression, which still held signs of hope for Protyst's survival. "I looked down there. It's completely full of sharp rocks. You can still…see his body down there. He hit a few of the rocks; the river hasn't swept his body away yet."

"He's…," Artha paused, giving himself a minute to comprehend what Delilah was saying. "I killed him?"

"Yeah. With a good shot too. It's…you okay?"

"No, no I'm not okay," Artha grumbled. "Help me up."

"What?"

"Help me up!"

Artha struggled and pitched his upper body forward to sit in an upright position. He blinked his eyes repeatedly at the sudden dizziness.

"Why? Get back down!" Delilah instructed.

"No, up!" Artha growled, lifting his arm up at her to grab. "Help me up."

Delilah huffed at his stubbornness. "Fine. Hurts you, not me."

Artha shut his eyes tight as the feeling of vertigo afflicted him as Delilah hoisted him up. Amidst her confirmations of how heavy he was, Artha focused on staying upright. He wobbled around before Delilah managed to help him steady. Beau put his head behind Artha's back, providing further support.

"Thanks boy," Artha said flatly and somewhat distantly, his eyes glued to the edge of the ravine as they began to limp over there. Beau looked at him worriedly.

As they reached the edge, both Beau and Delilah prevented Artha from going as far as he wanted. He supposed he understood their worry. A gust of wind could blow him over the edge, he was that unsteady. But he had to see.

The sun was almost beneath the horizon, painting the sky in its farewell colours of purple, orange and pink when Artha tried to peer at the bottom of the ravine. It was shrouded in darkening shadow, making it hard to see any details.

Leaning over as far as they dared let him, Artha's eyes roamed the jutting rocks, feeling sick as he watched the water crash against them. Delilah pointed a finger; Artha followed the line until his eyes rested on a dark form that was not another shadow or a piece of debris. It was hard to make out any details, especially since Artha was feeling even sicker than before, but it was clear. There was a body down there, and it wasn't moving.

"Enough. Back, back," Artha said quickly, startling them both. They eased him back, mindful of his foot and let him sit on the sparse patch of grass. Delilah sat behind him, acting as his support as he breathed deeply to calm himself. She was quiet and allowed him his moment as Beau began to settle himself beside them, but then think better of it and almost dejectedly walk to the trees, sniffing the air for any other intruders, head hanging low in a sense of failure. He couldn't comfort Artha with what he may need most at that time. Words.

Delilah felt quite uncomfortable that the job had fallen to her, but she was the only other one who could speak. "Uhh, Artha? We should…if you think you're ready, we should go."

Artha shook his head slowly. "I killed him. Me." He looked at the ground, wincing slightly at the feel of fresh blood beginning to ooze from his face wound. "I did it."

"Yep," she responded lamely after a pause. "But you know, that happens. It always happens. It's war. If you hadn't we'd be the ones killed."

"But," Artha whispered. "I didn't mean to."

"Better him than us."

"Even still," Artha said, closing his eyes, hating himself for agreeing with her. "It was an accident."

"He deserved it though. He killed that guy-

"Rancydd."

"-Rancydd, and others before him and would have killed more in the future. You should be proud of yourself, Artha. You saved us. You're a hero."

"Is that what a hero is?" Artha asked in a whisper. "Is that what I have to do now?"

"If you want, I guess," Delilah stammered. "Look, we should get going. I don't know how safe we are here. We have to find a better place to take care of your cuts and Covert's leg, and then…find a town."

"Covert's fine?" Artha asked in a normal tone.

"He'll be okay," Delilah assured him.

Artha nodded. "Then we should go. I…let's just go. Away from here."

Delilah caught Beau's eye from across the clearing, and with Beau lying down they hoisted Artha onto the saddle as he ground his teeth together in pain, but refrained from crying out. Covert was carefully lifted onto Beau's back, and Delilah was about to follow when Beau's head snapped up, earning a grunt from Artha.

"What is it?" Delilah asked.

Beau snorted, moving only his eyes as he looked at the trees. Then they heard it as well. A twig snapped. And then another, and another.

"Great," Delilah murmured for them all. As Beau went into a fighting stance, Artha grabbed for the handles and Covert made a small whimpering sound.

The noise stopped, and silence filled the woods until a voice sounded. "Who's there? Identify yourselves."

"Uh, us," Delilah responded uneasily.

"Who wants to know?" Artha demanded with an edge to his voice.

Several voices seemed to converse with each other before the figures stepped from the forest and into view; four riders and four dragons. All armed and poised to attack at any provocation. What surprised them, though, was the bone colour of the dragons. There were two blue, and two red, all of which eyed them in suspicion.

"We asked you first," the rider on a blue said with authority. "Identify yourselves." One of the riders on a red whispered something in his ear, loud enough for their other two comrades to hear, but too soft for Artha and Delilah. The rider on the blue then narrowed his eyes at Beau.

Artha looked from Beau to the rider, then to Beau again. "We were captured by the Dragon Eyes. We escaped during the battle," he said evenly, watching their expressions.

They looked at each other and whispered amongst themselves again. Artha's mouth twitched in annoyance. "You aren't Dragon Eyes, are you? So where do you come from?"

They quieted and looked at him, having come to an agreement. "We've been expecting the attack and chose this opportunity to free one of our men from the Dragon Eye camp," the blue rider said in a neutral, but very much alert voice.

"We haven't seen any other prisoners," Artha replied, thinking back.

The rider's expression turned grim. "We must go and search for him then. However, you seem in need of aid. Forgive me, but we must leave quickly. I'll leave Staind to help you. He will explain things."

The blue rider and his dragon led the way, leaving with the two reds following him. All three disappeared in the gathering gloom, and Artha, Beau, Delilah and Covert all looked at their new friend.

"We're in the open here. If you will, follow me. We will fall back to a more secluded place. I have with me medical equipment we-"

"Excuse me," Artha said, interrupting him. He looked slightly startled, but kept silent and waited for Artha to continue. "But…who are you?"

Staind gave them a nervous smile and held up his arm, twisting it so they could see the symbol attached to his upper right arm. In the dark it was barely discernable. Artha squinted his eyes in an effort to see better, but stopped when the motion aggravated the long cut on his face. "Delilah?"

She was silent for a few seconds before turning to him with a wide grin that ate up her own face. "It's a star, Artha. A golden star!"

* * *

Dark had fully fallen, and the battle was finally over. The attackers had fled as quickly as they had come, leaving behind a suitable portion of the camp ablaze and a great many Dragon Eyes wounded or killed. The last of the fires was being put out as the sun slipped beneath the horizon, and the forest became was peaceful once more, save for the now very hectic activity within the Dragon Eye camp.

The Shadow Booster rode his dragon silently, mere miles from the camp now, and mere miles from showing everyone how very displeased he was. Word had already reached him about the attack, and the amount of men dead or wounded and the amount of damage that had been done had darkened his already dark mood.

First was the noise the attack had made, and the plumes of smoke rising into the sky, however now almost indiscernible thanks to the faded light. Scouts and spies were sent out to see just how much the Purple Empire had noticed. Though huge, the camp had been completely concealed to the Purple Empire, who knew nothing of the growing fortress that would one day occupy this place and provide a suitable place for an offensive attack. The chance that they were still ignorant to their presence was small, but still a reality if his men could silence anyone who thought to spread word about what they had seen illuminated in the sky or what they had heard, or if they could effectively convince no one to investigate… The Shadow Booster almost sighed. Surprise was lost. New strategies would have to be made.

Not only was the grim prospect of discovery enough to make every Dragon Eye close to the Shadow Booster walk as if on glass, but news of certain escaped prisoners…not that was something the Shadow Booster did not want to hear.

He had been contacted earlier as he was enroute, discreetly, to the large camp from another large camp on the Northern side of the Purple Empire. Skin, one of Word's most trusted. Her news of a deal was at first something to pass the time on the long trek, however, when he had learned the name of the prisoner she had wanted killed…well, he was more than happy, although stunningly shocked, to oblige, though he didn't let her know.

He knew of course, that the Paynn Empire would be one of the first Empires to know that he had finally decided to begin the Years of War again and come down from the north, so the contact wasn't entirely surprising, only the content was. A deal had been made, one that he was happy with and one that Skin wasn't pleased with, but wasn't quite opposed to either. So everything appeared to be working out well. Execute a prisoner, send the body to the Paynn Empire, keep the dragon for himself and send the other two prisoners back as well, and a terrible threat to everyone opposed to the Gold Empire and their talk of freedom for everyone, dragon or human, would be silently averted before anyone else knew who had finally come back. The Shadow Booster knew, of course, that Artha Penn was the Dragon Booster, even though Skin may not have seemed to.

But then, when the news of the escape reached the Shadow Booster as he was updated on the extent of the recent battle damage, he was outraged. Not to mention that he couldn't get a hold of Rancydd. That ignited his temper further, and the Dragon Eyes with him all but volunteered to scan the forest to see if any attackers were still nearby. This left the Shadow Booster alone, something he was glad of, for if someone else were travelling with him, he was sure he'd have taken off their head just to vent some anger.

His eyes narrowed as he reflected on all that had happened. A conflict was growing in his mind, and a voice that had been forced silent for so long was now making itself heard once again at the mention of the Dragon Booster. His hands suddenly gripped the handles tightly as a spasm rushed through him. His dragon looked up at him, unconcerned for the most part.

A final twitch and calmness and control swept over the Shadow Booster again. His grip remained tight though, and his eyes only two thin slits of angry red light.

He soon arrived on the frantic scene of the camp. He was informed that no, Rancydd had not returned or showed up yet, and no, neither was his second, Protyst, and yes, damage was extensive, though only on the north-west side of the camp where the attack had come from, and no, the prisoners were not found yet, and yes, yes they would obliterate the rock face on the western side.

The Shadow Booster looked up at the slight cliff, surrounded by heavy evergreens with an almost smooth cliff face, on which was now carefully marked with the Blue Empire symbol. The charred and smoky edges did justice for the lightning bolt inscribed in the rock, via carefully controlled mag streams.

The Shadow Booster remained quiet atop his dragon and vowed to himself that the Energy Booster would surely pay for this, but next time, he would be the victor.

* * *

Jyme stood on the saddle while Tryaust stretched his neck up high and glanced around warily. K-Oz had selected them for his scouting party, and they were now on the southern border of the Orange Empire. It was dark, and the only light came from the countless stars above and from the device Jyme held in his outstretched hand, needed to boost their signal strength and also encrypt it so as to be accessible only to the Gold Empire.

_Hurry up_, Tryaust urged impatiently.

_Done_, Jyme confirmed and sat down in the saddle. Tryaust immediately jogged down from the small hill and into cover of a group of trees. The information had been sent, and now the Gold Empire was alerted to the Black Empire as it came down from the north.

Tryaust again walked the patrol route K-Oz had assigned him; easily pretending that Jyme and he had not committed yet another act of treason against the Orange Empire.

Unbeknownst to them, K-Oz's eyes gleamed from his hiding place as his suspicions were confirmed. Spies. He grinned.

Little did they know, but they would be more useful to him than they would be to the Gold Empire.


	17. A Golden Hope

**A/N:** ...in my defense, it didn't quite take another year to update. Actually, after the last chapter I got tired of writing, and then forgot all about my stories until I got some messages asking me to continue. So here it is, and seriously, next update will be quicker. And sorry for the short chapter. It's only about 5,000 words.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dragon Booster.

* * *

_A Golden Hope_

Staind's friends had returned a few hours later, along with their friend who had been imprisoned in the Dragon Eye camp as Artha had been. After a long walk to a secluded place, just as dawn was beginning to creep over the horizon, they activated their black shadow teleportation gear. That was when Artha had finally fainted, from blood loss, pain and both physical and mental exhaustion. It wasn't until late that afternoon that Artha finally woke up, feeling as though he could have had another few years of sleep, which immediately reminded him of a state akin to the Shadow Track, which then immediately made him very glad that he actually _was_ awake.

His eyes, at first unfocused and heavy, eventually allowed him to gaze unobstructed at the wooden ceiling above him. A confused look passed his features, and he cringed at the feeling of pulled skin. He lifted a shaking hand to his face, feeling heavy bandages covering his facial wound. He grimaced in remembrance, his low groan alerting others in the tent that he was awake.

"So it seems," Delilah started, and Artha turned his head to the left to see her stand from a seat in the corner where she was obviously having dinner with Covert to stand beside his bed, "that you finally decided to come to the land of the living."

"How long?" Artha mumbled, trying to figure out just how his mouth worked again.

"Not as long as it could've been," she said. "It's afternoon, same day that you fainted."

Artha pouted slightly. "I fell unconscious, there's a difference." Delilah grinned and shook her head. "Where are we?"

Her grin intensified. "We're at a place just flowing with food that actually has taste, and not in the bad way. Right, Covert?" She turned to look at where Covert had his mouth full of food, his own huge grin plastered on his face. He raised his fork, showing Artha what he was missing. In response, Artha's stomach growled.

"So that would be…"

Delilah tapped her head. "Think Artha."

Artha sighed; thinking was the last thing anyone in his state should be allowed to do. "Well…," he started, by stopped abruptly as he remembered the golden symbol all their rescuers had worn. "The- the Gold…"

"Yep, we made it," Delilah smiled. "You now are currently in the main Gold Empire's encampment, well, more like a town really. It's just great! Do you know how many dragons I saw walking around? I mean free ones?"

Artha opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by her enthusiasm. "I…I couldn't count them all! I mean, Beau was even talking to some, I guess at least. They were making weird sounds. They were walking around with no riders! They could do whatever they wanted. I think some even said hi to me…in their language of course."

"Sounds," Artha paused, trying to find an appropriate response. "It sounds…wonderful." He knew of course, that no word in the Draconian language could have expressed how wonderful it really was. He felt as though he could finally relax, he felt as though he could finally feel safe, and he felt as though he had finally come home. He hoped so, at least. If his dad and brother were anywhere, they would be here. Probably within yelling distance…

He sat up suddenly, feeling a rush of adrenaline. He had to move, to do something. But then the room rudely started to dance around his head, and he found he had a hard time just trying to focus on Delilah. He sighed and flopped back down, the impact of which made it worse. He closed his eyes and waited to regain his sense of balance.

"You lost a bit of blood you know. If you really want to sit up, try doing it _slowly_ next time," she said in a tone that made it clear that Artha was, at that moment, an idiot.

Artha mumbled his response, and Delilah quickly bounded over to Covert and the enticing dinner. "Guess you must be hungry," she said as she picked up a plate and began to load it up with food. Artha didn't hear her.

He was so close… All he had to do was find his father. Connor would make it all okay. He always did, in the end.

Artha glanced down at his foot, also heavily bandaged, matching his face quite nicely. He touched his face as he tried to wiggle his toes, grimacing slightly when pain shot up his leg. He wondered if he'd get some cool scars from all this. Considering how much it had hurt, he'd better.

"Doesn't…doesn't really hurt all _that_ much," Artha mumbled to himself. Of course his foot hurt and his face hurt, but not near enough as it should. He had, after all, gotten a deep cut on his face and had a blade stabbed straight through his foot.

"Painkillers. Lots of painkillers," Delilah said as she placed a plate of food beside him on a small table. "I'm sure you're very glad you have them."

Artha nodded once and looked over at the food and struggled to sit up. Grunting with the effort of helping him, Delilah soon had him propped up against his pillow. She sat down with a satisfied look on her face.

"Okay," he said, "now tell me, did you walk about at all? I mean, who did you see?" He picked up the fork and eagerly began eating, feeling quite safe that this time there would be no dragon meat.

"Well, I met Staind again, he's pretty cool, and uh…different other people. I forget their names. And the dragons…I forget their names too. But none of them tried to eat me!"

"That's great!" Artha said as he shoved in another mouthful of food. Delilah frowned slightly at the bit of sarcasm. "But, what did you find about the Empire itself?"

Delilah looked at the ceiling, squinting as she tried to remember all the details. "Well, first of all, this is a pretty permanent base right here. It's not a base, I shouldn't call it that. It's more of a small city. Everyone who joined the Empire, including their families, stays here. They have other camps that are all military, but this is their main place."

"Drac," Artha breathed, delighted at being in the Empire's headquarters itself, instead of a remote camp.

"You have no idea," Delilah agreed. "And right now it seems that most of their leaders, council members or whatever are here. They're having a big meeting, have been for several days. They've learned about the Black Empire coming down from the North."

"Any-any idea who's on that council thingy?"

"Um…people," Delilah guessed. "Some Boosters, but I'm not really sure who else."

"Boosters?" Artha asked, pausing in his eating, his fork comically suspended halfway to his gaping mouth. "How…how many?"

Delilah shrugged. "I'm not sure, but it sounds like more than one. Two I guess."

"Drac again," Artha said, as if in a trace. Boosters? Other Boosters? Actual other Boosters? Here? He couldn't believe it. He'd finally be able to meet other Boosters. The Shadow Booster didn't really count, in his mind. Not right now, not when the idea of being a Booster seemed to suddenly be a far more heroic duty than he had thought before. These other Boosters have been fighting this whole time, which meant they could teach him. He'd finally be able to talk to others and share the burden of the amulets and gauntlets!

Delilah watched him as his face gradually sported a huge smile. "I guess the Boosters are a pretty big deal," she mused.

Artha snapped closed his open mouth and looked at her. "Um…," he paused again, his next question more important than hearing of the Boosters. "Any Dragon Priests?"

"I…think. Yes." Delilah spread her hands apologetically. "Sorry. I was a tad too engrossed in the free dragons. I didn't really ask about all that."

"It's okay," Artha reassured her, surprised at his level of calmness. "We'll find out soon." Inside he was vibrating with joy. That Dragon Priest could be his father, maybe Tannis was here as well. And the other Boosters…. Artha felt as though he might faint from anticipation, but that wouldn't be a very Dragon Boosterly thing to do.

"When I'm done eating, we got to go over and talk to them," he informed her, shoveling another forkful into his mouth, surprising even himself with his ravenous hunger. He hadn't ever been this hungry before.

"They're very busy, Artha, making battle pans and whatnot. We'll have to wait till they're done."

"We can't wait; we have to see them soon."

"We can't just barge in on them! I know one of them wants to talk to us, but not now."

"Well I'm going," Artha said. "This is important."

"What they're talking about is important. You're acting like you…you really want to just barge in on their war meeting just so you can say hi?" She looked at him incredulously and Artha merely stared back, a serious look on his own face.

"Yes. It. Is. Very. Important," he said, enunciating each word to stress just how important they really were. Delilah was less than impressed.

"I know you want to find your dad here, so let's ask around, see if anyone else knows him."

"But he'll be at the meeting, I know he will!"

Delilah stared at him, shocked by the level of determination in his voice alone, never mind the defiant glare in his eyes. "I'm going," he informed her. "It's my job."

"What?" she half smiled at him, quickly finding his plan laughable. "Your job?" before she could ask what that meant, a knock was sounded on the door. They both looked, as if expecting to see straight through it and find who was on the other side. Covert spared them as glance as he looked up from his dessert, and then jumped up to answer the door.

"Hey there, Covert! Hey, Delila…oh, and now you're awake!" A grinning face appeared as a man whom Artha recognized as Staind stepped inside the little cabin. "Fixir was beginning to get a little apprehensive, but all the same we weren't expecting you to wake up just yet."

"I'm a quick healer," Artha informed him, surmising that he must be. A grunt announced Beau as he thrust his head in through the door and flashed them all a toothy grin. "Hey boy!"

Beau cooed his own greeting, tail visible as it swished happily behind him. Artha noticed the telltale colours of a sunset as they shone in through the door. He made eye contact with Beau, who immediately went from happy to serious.

"Staind," Artha said as he focused his attention onto him, "I need to talk to whoever is in charge here."

While Delilah gave an audible sigh and all but rolled her eyes, Staind nodded. "I agree. In a few days perhaps, when-"

"No! Right now! I have important information! I need to see them right now."

"I'm afraid they're in a meeting right now," Staind said, offering Artha a look of sympathy. "It won't be possible until-"

"-but-"

"-until they're done. This meeting is going to determine our future. The Years of War may soon be upon us. You may talk with them when they're done."

"But I have important information that they need to know right now!"

Staind eyed him. "…how important?" Delilah crossed her arms and gave him a look that invited a good explanation from him.

Artha took a deep breath, and when Beau nodded he said slowly, "because I'm the Dragon Booster." Delilah immediately burst out laughing.

"What, it's not funny. It's true!" Artha retorted.

Delilah tried to calm herself, placing a hand in front of her mouth to stifle the giggles still escaping. "Sor-sor-I can't sto-" She gave up and laughed away.

Artha growled under his breath and looked to Staind. "I really am, I…" he trailed off when he saw Staind's expression.

"I, er, I apologize Artha," he said, quickly wiping the smile from his face, but it soon reappeared despite his best efforts. He shook his head and sighed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have laughed. The painkillers are taking a toll on your reasoning abilities, it's understandable."

Artha looked at him, mouth agape. "But I really am….I'll show you!"

Delilah descended into a deeper fit of laughter. "You are priceless, Artha!"

"When you're more coherent, I'll hear you out," Staind said in what would pass as a calm, understanding voice, if not for the underlying amusement.

"I said I'll show you!"

Artha leaned forward and grabbed for his amulet…which wasn't there.

"What?" he gasped. Delilah and Staind both gave him odd looks; Staind's with a bit of pity and Delilah's with a bit of laughter still. Even Covert stared at Artha, unable to understand what was wrong with him. He started looking under his chair in case whatever Artha had lost had somehow fallen down there.

"Okay, I'm sorry too," Delilah said as Artha realized he had no pockets to check as he was wearing simple, hospital looking clothes, of which he hadn't paid much attention to before. "You're obviously…a little loopy because of the medication. So you deserve a break."

Staind nodded as Artha stared at him, seemingly pacified by the recent turn of events. "A rest will do you some good. I see you've eaten already." Artha looked up as Staind stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I promise, after your rest we'll see how you're doing, and do our best to let you see the council as quickly as you can, alright?"

Artha nodded glumly, knowing that he was just trying to make him feel better after his theatrics of making himself look like a fool.

"I'll see you guys later, let me know if you need anything."

"See ya, Staind," Delilah said as he turned, and with one last look at Artha and a pause to ruffle Covert's hair, brushed past Beau and left. Beau turned his head and regarded everyone left inside with a quiet stare.

"Um, Delilah, where are my clothes? And everything else I had?" Artha asked, glancing at her as he leaned back.

"In the corner, all washed," she said and gestured. "He's right, you probably do need more sleep. Come on Covert, we gotta let him sleep now."

Covert nodded and followed Delilah to the door, where she had paused, looking uncertainly at Beau.

"Just leave him," Artha said. She nodded and with one last farewell and a promise to come early tomorrow they were gone. Artha sighed. At Beau's questioning grunt he looked up.

"You know," he said, "I'm not sure I could even have gone through with the transformation." Beau snorted knowingly and magged Artha's things onto his bed. Artha was quiet for a long while as he fingered his clothes and eventually found his amulet and gauntlet. "You didn't happen to hear if my father was here?"

Beau's face broke out into a huge smile and nodded his head enthusiastically. He tried to tell Artha more, but only ended up confusing him.

"The meeting right? He's there?"

Beau nodded, surprising Artha that he didn't break his neck with the motion.

"He'll recognize me. I just gotta get in there."

* * *

After dressing, which was harder than Artha had thought it would be, Beau gave him a lift on his back as they walked over to where the meeting was being held. The wooden building was huge, and almost immediately Artha could see it as it towered over all the others.

But the prospect of finally seeing his dad was momentarily quieted as he first took in the camp. Dragons and people were everywhere, though not in large numbers, and Artha had a feeling it was due to the almost now set sun and the coming darkness. Artha's little cabin was actually joined to other small cabins that made up a long row of cabins. He was sure there was row upon row of these things, and that this was the hospital section of the town. In this place there were people who he recognized as doctors and people who had obviously gotten injured and were out for a stroll. He tried to pretend he was doing the same, and no one tried to stop Beau and him.

As they left the tight streets they came into the wider and busier streets surrounding the meeting hall, and Artha noticed with growing frustration that the front of the building, complete with an impressive flight of stairs considering the size of the town and the low budget look it possessed, was decorated quite nicely with guards stationed at the top.

"Considering how important their big meeting is, I doubt they'll just let us in," Artha mumbled and Beau snorted in agreement. Not that he was expecting to just waltz right in.

Beau took initiative and headed towards the back. As another building was built right up against the meeting hall, it consisted of a small alleyway, just large enough for supplies to get through to the back. Beau walked slowly, stopping when they came to the first door. Artha dismounted with some discomfort and limped up to the door, grabbing for the handle to steady himself.

"Should have gotten a walking stick or something," he grumbled in hindsight. He jumped nearly a foot when the door began to open.

A reasonably young man, yet clearly older than Artha, opened the door. His face showed no surprise at seeing Beau standing there. He opened the door further and Artha hid behind it.

"Delivery already?" the man asked, tapping an electronic shipping list against his thigh as he scrutinized Beau. Beau shook his head in surprise. "There a human with you?" Beau shook his head again, and then a mischievous look came on his face. Before the man could check behind the door and find Artha, Beau promptly magged his device out of his hand and took off down the alley.

"Hey!" he shouted in anger and ran off after him. "Stupid young drago…give that back!"

Artha discreetly slipped inside and found himself in a hallway. He chose to go left, and limping along using the wall as support, he searched for his father.

* * *

Quite glad that along the way he had found a suitable crutch, Artha ignored the growing pain in his leg and turned around the next corner, quite tired and more than frustrated. He hadn't found even a glimpse of where this meeting might be taking place. He was on the third floor in a maze of corridors, searching for a main hallway that might suggest a large meeting room of sorts. He sighed as this new hallway had nothing more than two locked doors on the left side and what he was hoping to be an unlocked door at the end. When he eventually came to the end, too disgruntled to try anything more than a slow plod, his heart leaped when it opened and he found himself in a slightly larger hall.

"Halt," came a crisp voice and Artha swung to his right, finding two guards rather alertly guarding a large set of double doors. "Business for the council or get out."

"I…uh, yeah. I was…sent by Staind's party to relay information picked up from the Dragon Eye camp," he said in what he thought of as a smooth lie, subconsciously straightening up.

The guard eyed his makeshift crutch and bandages. "The rescue party? Staind already informed us of any relevant information."

"Yeah, well I was a prisoner in that camp. Staind found me and my friends and brought us here."

"Ah yes, that was mentioned," the guard intoned.

"Yeah, and since I was out when we came here because of my injuries, I wasn't able to tell anyone of the news I picked up while I was a prisoner." Artha saw their bored faces look at each other, curiosity and questions in their eyes. They looked at Artha again, noting his injuries more clearly.

"And Staind sent you, you said?"

"Yes."

"Why did he not come here instead of you?" The other guard spoke up, coming forward a step. 'You don't exactly look like you should be running around just yet."

"I feel fine, well, fine enough," he added at their disbelieving looks. "Isn't also better to hear it straight from me than through another source."

The guards fell silent. "What do you think?" The first guard turned to the other. "They're rather busy in there."

Artha forced himself to stay still and quiet, while brimming with anticipation on the inside.

"I don't kno-well…it is from the Dragon Eye camp. Directly from within the belly of the beast, eh?"

"True," the other guard said slowly and in such a way that Artha was afraid that they might tell him to wait.

"I know how they get around…and, and their numbers…uh, Rancydd's death?" Artha held his breath and slowly exhaled when Rancydd's name caused them to perk up.

"Rancydd? Dead?" They looked at each other in surprise. Artha found himself surprised that Delilah hadn't mentioned it, either that, or these guys just didn't know.

"Yeah. I need to…you know…," Artha motioned towards the door, swaying on his crutch.

They jumped back, one motioning for the other to open the door for him. "Would you require a better," the one guard paused, looking at Artha's crutch in disdain.

"This is fine," Artha said, walking past them as cleanly as he could manage. "Thank you."

The guard nodded. "Just head left and it's through the doors." With a loud finality of closing, the doors were shut.

Looking around Artha found himself in a lobby of sorts, where a woman working at a computer gave him a pointed stare. He smiled weakly and she went back to her work, deciding he was fine on his own. Artha did his best not to limp as he headed to the back of the room and down a short hallway on his left. Ahead of him double doors evidently led to the meeting. Artha took a deep breath, knowing it was all a few steps away.

He grasped one of the polished handles and gave it a tug, almost falling over when it barely budged. "Great," he muttered under his breath and took a wider stance, managing this time to open it a few feet. He stopped to catch his breath, and was about to proceed when he heard the voices from within. Deciding it was best to look at his surroundings before he barged in there, he took a peek inside.

In the middle of the room was a round table, instantly reminding him of the table at the Down City Council. Around it were more people than he thought might have been there. Perhaps there was about twenty-five, though Artha wasn't too concerned with the exact number. Behind the seated humans, dragons were lying down, a good fifteen of them. They listened to the talk, voicing agrees and disagrees in tones that the humans understood. Artha pulled his head back, thinking he might have been too visible when he tuned in on their conversation.

"…ridiculous. The western empires will never agree," said a man on the right side of the table, sporting a nearly all green outfit. Artha grinned when he saw the Grip of the Dragon symbol on his shoulder.

"I know, we all know," started a man to the left. He rubbed his face tiredly. "We've been here for days trying to find a way to please them. Do you want to spend days more here?"

"I'll spend as long as I have to in order to find the right deal," a woman said, dressed in fiery red, looking pointedly at the last man to speak, daring him to speak again.

"I think we may simply have to go with Thruust's idea. It surely leaves us the poor point of the bargain, but their cooperation is vital. I'd rather start strong with them and solidify our alliance as soon as we can."

Artha's gaze found itself locked onto the man who had spoken in such a tired voice. He was seated at the opposite end of the table, furthest away from where Artha was. Though a few people were standing in front of him, through the gaps he could see him sitting; a bald head, wrinkled features and determined eyes.

"He's right. We do need to get onto other matters," said a tall man to his immediate right.

Conversations rose between the people, each talking to their neighbor until they seemed to come to a consensus. "Connor, perhaps we could also send a…."

Artha swore his heart stopped beating as the man had spoken directly to the old man, who listened intently, nodding his head every so often. Artha frowned as people moved in front of his vision, causing him to step slightly further into the room in order to get another look at his father. The joy of finally finding his dad was at that moment overshadowed by the sight of him. He didn't look quite like his dad anymore.

Artha shook his head, finding his eyes beginning to tear. His dad. Finally. He didn't care if he looked older, he was still Connor. He still had the same colour eyes, the same bald head, the same unwavering voice, if only slightly weaker now. He looked tired, which Artha assumed was from all the hours and days of this meeting. He wiped the back of his sleeves, brushing away the tears before they fell, unable and not wanting to stop the biggest smile of relief from stretching across his face. No more worrying about what to do by himself, finally someone to really talk to again, to tell him everything he needed to know and to believe in him again.

Connor was listening closely to a woman talk, just as supportive as he ever was. He still had a beard, though this was completely grey. His clothes signified his status of Dragon Priest, and Artha choked back tears when he saw the Gold Star above his left breast. It really began to sink in on him that this was the army that had fought at the entrance to the Shadow Track. Artha mumbled a silent prayer that no one he knew had died there. He lifted his head to listen to the conversations, wanting to just look at his father for a while longer, fearing that if he entered now he would burst into tears.

A man closer to Artha cleared his throat loudly. "If that's settled, then perhaps Parmon can brief us on the status of th…"

Artha whipped his eyes from his father, looking at the guy who had talked. He slapped a hand over his mouth as a small cry of astonishment slipped out. He backed up into the hallway, not noticing that as everyone looked around slightly confused, a lone dragon near Connor was watching the open doorway with suspicion. She rumbled dragon-speak in his ear and Connor frowned, then motioned with his hand at another dragon near the door.

Meanwhile, Artha leaned the back of his head against the door, heart beating wildly. He couldn't believe it, Parm was there too? He couldn't wait to try to see which one Parm was and how he looked now. A smile broke out on his face as a dragon peeked through the door and grinned.

Glowing purple, the dragon sent a mag stream and picked up Artha, who yelped in shock, dropping his crutch. The dragon pushed the door open further with her shoulder and dropped Artha inside. He immediately crumpled to the ground, his feet unable to support him from the several foot drop. The dragon backed up a foot in surprise; she hadn't seen his bandages until the last moment, but didn't spare the eavesdropper with much pity as she pawed the dropped stick over to Artha's body and gripped the handle in her teeth to close the door.

"Great," Artha muttered as he took his foot in his hands. When the door closed he focused on the now angry voices of the humans and the appalled sounds from the dragons.

"Just what is the meaning of this?" A man shouted and pushed his chair back as he stood up. "How did he get here?" More angry voices joined him. Artha tried to push himself up into a sitting position without agitating his foot further.

"This is ridiculous."

"How long has he been listening?"

"Where is security?"

"I'll take care of it."

The last voice had Artha whip his head up as he saw that the owner of the voice had been quite serious. A large Grip of the Dragon member began to walk towards him.

"W-wait!" Artha said, barely heard over the uproar the meeting was in. "I'm supposed to be here."

"I'm sure," the man said as he lifted Artha with one hand. He tried to fight off the dizziness.

"No really. I-I didn't want to interrupt you, so I was just waiting for a good time to come in…" Artha said in a rush.

The man turned him to face himself. "This had better be important."

It was then that Artha noticed that the entire room had gone silent, and that everyone was waiting for his response. Almost everyone. At least one person had gone as white as a ghost, thinking that they were currently seeing one. Artha found his stunned father's eyes.

"Dad."


	18. The Dragon Booster

**A/N:** Twice as long as the last chapter, hope you enjoy! And a big thank you to all that reviewed! Constructive criticism is always welcome! :)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Dragon Booster.

* * *

_The Dragon Booster_

Artha held his breath and did his best not to simply break down in front of the entire meeting. Everyone had gone silent as his father slowly stood up, his eyes locked onto Artha's body, his mouth open and closing wordlessly.

"Artha?" he spoke hesitantly, clearly unsure. Artha was taken aback. Why didn't his dad look happy to see him? Connor began to walk around the table towards him with his steps wobbly and uncertain, using the chairs for support. People switched between looking worriedly at Connor to looking pointedly and suspiciously at Artha. "You…you're dead." He paused halfway down the round table.

Artha heard someone whisper Magna Draconis from the other side of the room, but paid it no more attention than that. "I'm not dead, dad," he said forcefully in an attempt to convince Connor with his words.

"Then you got out…," Connor asked slowly. Artha nodded in response, but Connor looked more confused than ever. "There's…no way…it's not possible. I checked. I looked at all the possibilities. Every single one! Don't come into here and pretend to be my son!"

"But Dad!"

"I've lost all my sons…don't…don't trick me. Not again!"

"Trick you?" Artha said incredulously. "Who's tricked you? It's me, Artha Penn. Your son."

Connor glared at him. "This won't work twice. Go back and tell Word Paynn that if he's out of new ideas and turned to using old ones, that just maybe he's not…"

"I'm not tricking you!" Artha yelled. "What are you talking about?"

Connor's hand gripped the back of the chair he was currently next too and turned his head away from Artha. Artha felt as though he had just been punched in the gut. His dad wouldn't even look at him. He looked around the silent room as everyone watched him in hostility. Was nothing easy anymore?

The Grip of the Dragon placed his heavy hand on Artha's shoulder, and though he wasn't as big as some, he was still more than strong enough to deal with Artha. He held Artha in place, and with just a little more pressure made it clear that Artha wasn't going anywhere unless he wanted him too. He spoke in a gravelly voice, "a number of years ago Word Paynn created a fake Dragon Booster. We were led to believe that he had escaped from the Shadow Track, and in force we marched against what we thought was to be a small amount of Word's army, blocking his way out of the track itself. Unfortunately for us, what we thought was a message from one of our spies was-"

"-a trap," Connor finished without raising his eyes. When he did, he glared at Artha. "So tell me why you're here."

Artha licked his lips as he felt the hand on his shoulder grip it tightly. "Wait…so everyone here knows Artha Penn is the Dragon Booster?"

"About a year ago word got around, so yes," said a woman. "And it would appear that Word now knows too."

"Unless Word didn't send you," Connor said, eyes still narrowed in suspicion. "Since when people knew about the Dragon Booster and who he really was, we were still in hiding. None of our scouts or our spies have had any mysterious disappearances or even mentioned seeing any from the Paynn Empire so close to here. No one else has left this town besides them, so it would seem that we have a spy, willingly giving out information right under our noses. As you can imagine," Connor said in a low voice, "security here has been of high importance, and for anyone, not just Word, to find out where we are…and then to send…you! It's unthinkable."

A man just barely seemed to reign in his anger as he said, "the last thing we need is a breach in our security!" He slammed his fist onto the table, causing everything on it to jump and for the objects nearest to him, to tip over. "Whoever sent you then…," he trailed off and shook his head.

"No one sent me!" Artha yelled and finally reached the tipping point. He had enough. "No one…ugh, fine! You don't believe me? I'm the Dragon Booster! I'm not a trick, I'm not a phony! I have walked for weeks! I have had to walk in the rain, sleep in the rain, I've been more dirty than I've ever been before, I've been more hungry than I've ever been before, I've been chased by wraiths and what's more, I've discovered that I'm fifteen years in the future! Do you know what that's like! I'll take a guess and say you don't!"

He took a deep breath, his glare demanding that no one dare interrupt him. "And then the Black Empire catches me! That was just the icing on the cake! I nearly lose Beau, I get this…gash on my face, I get a…a thing, stabbed through my foot, I watched Rancydd die, I inadvertently kill someone, and then when I come here, no one believes me! And my dad, who barely looks like my dad anymore, thinks I'm some kind of trick!"

Artha stopped, panting as he regained his breath and glared at the entire council; even the dragons looked shocked. He turned to his dad and pointed his finger. "I. Am. Your. Son. Beau is outside right now, and I'm in here. Whatever…Dragon Booster Word managed to fake before, well…I guess that I'll just have to show you that I am the real deal. What would it take for me to convince you?"

Connor, momentarily speechless by the outburst, quickly answered in a steady voice with an angry frown on his face, "become the Dragon Booster."

"Okay then," Artha replied simply and looked at the man behind himself until he stepped back. He held the amulet in his hand for everyone to see. The dragons craned their necks to look at it, but the humans merely glanced it over. He held it up, letting them have their fill of it. He looked back to his father, who seemed to be struggling with himself. Artha softened his face for him, the anger he had draining away until there was none left. He wasn't angry at his dad, quite the opposite. He held his father's eyes for a moment. Connor glanced again to the amulet, suspicion lifting slowly, fear of trickery and the pain of loss kept it from lifting entirely. Artha nodded his head once to Connor, and as he placed the amulet in his gauntlet, was more than glad to see the look of belief on his father's face even before the transformation begun. And that meant a lot to Artha.

And to his surprise, it didn't hurt him as much as he thought it might. When the transformation was complete he found that his foot felt sturdier in the armor. He looked up, strengthened by the armor. To his surprise, Connor's face was unreadable.

Artha looked around the room and watched as surprised faces either slipped into wonder or distrust and anger. Nearly all the dragons, he noted, inclined their heads towards him. He took a deep breath, reveling in the familiarity of the armor before he took the amulet out of the gauntlet. He wanted to meet his dad face to face.

He looked up at his father's grin, and suddenly felt a large weight lift off his shoulders. "It's really you!" Connor broke out into a quick stride and reached Artha's side in seconds, enveloping him in a huge hug.

Artha hugged him back, throwing his arms around his father and burying his face in his shoulder, nodding his head furiously. Connor took his face in his hands, looking over every single detail. "I don't believe it…Artha." Again he hugged him close, threatening to break his ribs, and then abruptly held him at arm's length. "What happened to your face?"

"Long story, dad," Artha said, brushing away a tear and taking deep breaths. "Just…just took a while to get here."

"I can't believe you found us. I can't believe you got out…actually got out. After-after all this time…" Connor squeezed Artha's shoulders and looked him straight in the eye and said in a dead serious voice, a voice that Artha couldn't help but believe his every word. "Don't worry now."

"Okay," Artha said and sniffed, far too relieved and happy to be able to say anything else.

"You're safe here." Connor gave him one last squeeze and seemed to remember the rest of the council. Artha wiped his eyes and looked around as well, noticing that several people had gotten up from their chairs and were currently standing nearby, with nothing but astonishment on their faces.

Connor looked them all over, the joy of finding his son alive after believing he was dead for so many years shining on his face. "I suppose," he began with a deep breath, emotion nearly taking away his ability to speak, "that I should introduce you to my son. I thought…we all thought he was dead. I thought he died a long time ago." For a moment Artha thought his dad would begin crying, but was reassured when Connor glanced at him with nothing but joy on his face. "My son, Artha Penn."

As expected, the room filled with noise as everyone talked to each other, amplified by the dragons own talking. Artha stood a little straighter, despite the fact that his face and foot were beginning to sting. He supposed he had found out how long the painkillers were going to last for him. His father, now facing the room with Artha by his side and his left arm draped over his shoulders, holding him close, nodded and smiled towards the several people who had come close in curiosity, and for two, utter bewilderment.

"That can't be," one woman wearing red spoke up. "Connor...are you sure?"

"You know him as well as I," Connor said, ignoring Artha's questioning look. "It's him."

The woman paused for a moment, thinking in the growing noise of the council, most of which by now were demanding explanations. "But he's dead. And I'm not saying that I don't want him to be alive, but…it's been fifteen years."

"It's not too long," Artha spoke up, getting a little ticked that they were speaking as though he wasn't there, and worse, as if he was dead. "Fifteen years isn't that long." He was sure that everyone else, including him, heard the lie in his voice. Fifteen years was far too long.

The woman fell silent, needlessly brushing some of her short, blue hair out of her face as she studied Artha. She placed a hand over her mouth as realization sunk in. "Magna Draconis, Artha. You…you idiot."

Artha blinked in shock. "What?"

She brushed away the tears that were beginning to fall, then looked at him, her smile just beginning to emerge. "That's the second time you got yourself stuck in the Shadow Track, stable-boy."

Artha felt his jaw drop. "Kitt?"

She grinned and laughed at his face. "You better believe it, 'cause I'm not sure I'm quite believing this." She gave him a squeezing hug and Artha found himself returning the hug, at the moment feeling like he was hugging a stranger. "Welcome back, hero-boy," she whispered. "You're like a dream come true." And then Artha found himself hating Kitt because she was making him cry again, but when she pulled away he found that he couldn't help but be glad.

She may be older, but she was still Kitt, and she was still a piece of his old reality, slowly making him realize that this one wasn't quite as bad as he had thought. Her hair was the same length as it had been all those years ago, though she had lost the ponytail at the back. Her red clothes and the Dragon Flame emblem on her shoulder signified her allegiance with the Red Empire, though Artha had no doubt she was more loyal to Connor and the Gold Empire.

He looked beside her to the tall man standing there, dimly noticing that he was possibly the only one wearing armor. His short brown hair and five o'clock shadow was so familiar, but the strong build was not. Artha also saw, without surprise, that his armor was mainly green. "Parmon."

Parm's face broke out into a huge grin and then to Artha's huge surprised nearly crushed him in his own hug. Since when had Parm gotten _that_ strong? "Artha! I can't believe it! By all accounts you should be dead. I have no idea how you survived in there! For nearly fifteen years! It's amazing!" He pulled away to emphasize just how long it had been with his hand. "How?"

"Uh…what?" Artha stammered, not ready for Parm's sudden question.

"Well, never mind about that now. Magna Draconis, Artha. It's…it's…so…."

Kitt smirked at him. "I see you've finally broken the professor." Parm spared her a short look, and Artha said the very next thing that was on his mind.

"Parm, you stink."

"What? Oh, well, I suppose I do. It's not that bad."

"Are you sure, Parm? I've had to sit beside him for the past few hours," Kitt explained to Artha, holding her nose.

Artha smiled and looked Parm over closely. His armor was scratched, dirty and covered in mud, and Artha was sure there were a few dents. Parm's face didn't look much better, although it was clear he'd tried to rub the dirt off…with his sleeve.

"Parm, can't you take a bath?" he joked, half serious. Parm really was dirty.

"Really, I had no time. I came here not four hours ago, and they required my presence here immediately. I had assumed we'd have retired by now, but I had no idea the discussions were still this intense."

Artha frowned. "Come from? Where'd you come from? Were you…fighting?"

Before Parm could answer, Artha felt Connor's hand on his shoulder, guiding him to face the rest of the room.

"Connor, don't be a fool!" a man called out. "The Dragon Booster is dead."

"Now now. I know that…his survival is more than surprising, to all of us. Believe me, I…I just....." Connor sighed, lowering his head slightly before raising it again. "Because of what happened before, I am wary of Word and his traps, whatever they might be. But I know my son, and nothing can mimic the actual transformation to the Dragon Booster. You said Beau was outside?" Connor asked, turning to Artha.

"Yeah, he's…around."

"Good." Connor turned to one of the guards at the door. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to have him here too." The guard saluted and strode off, the other finding it finally time to close the meeting doors. Artha recognized them as the ones guarding the lobby before. The last guard gave him a slow, incredulous look before the doors finally closed.

One man that had been quite vocal through all this stood up and came near Connor, his gaze flickering from Connor to Artha repeatedly. "Connor, I trust your judgment, and especially in this case. You've raised the Dragon Booster and trained him. I don't know how he survived in the Shadow Track for all this time, but you above all others know what you're talking about. I do believe you when you say this is the Dragon Booster. The actual Dragon Booster." Nearly a head taller than Connor, he had the misfortune of looking arrogant, as he seemed to permanently look down his rather large nose at him.

Connor gave him a small, thankful smile that slowly disappeared as the man continued. "Dragon Booster he may be, but he's just a boy. "

"What?" Artha interjected.

Turning his head to him, the man's respectful eyes turned hard. "Yes. Oh, I know of your exploits in Dragon City, and I assure you that praise is long overdue for all your efforts and victories in stopping the war…for a time. I also know how much faith Connor has in history and the Dragon of Legend, and if Word's plan hadn't worked and if this situation had never occurred, no doubt you would be a strong presence in our army, trained as we have and as ready as we are at this moment. But fate decided not to grant you that opportunity. Some here believe that had you not been trapped, Word Paynn would never have gone ahead with his plan."

"I know," Artha said, clenching his teeth. "I let all you guys down because I got careless in the track."

He felt a hand rest lightly on his shoulder and looked to see that it belonged to Kitt. "You didn't let anyone down, sta…Artha. You didn't know."

"Yeah, I didn't know," he echoed her. "Just please don't try to make it sound like something…something small. This isn't just me making a mistake and losing a race. I mean, I didn't even wait for you Kitt. I just rushed in…and look what happened. Fifteen years isn't something…small," he finished softly, at that moment unable to think of any words that could aptly describe the size of his blunder.

Kitt squeezed his shoulder and he felt comforted that he could rely on her; not that he ever doubted it, not even for a second.

"Connor," the man spoke up again, slight annoyance building in his voice, "I suggest that we place him under the Fire and Power Boosters to train for the time being. When he is of suitable skill and if he is willing, we can begin to place him in th-"

"Wait, boosters? They're here? Are they? Where…." Artha stopped as quickly as he had started as a surge of excitement passed through him. He even glanced around the room, hoping they would come forward. He had completely forgotten about them.

Artha completely missed the man's growing irritation as he inclined his head Artha's left, to where he found spreading grins on his friend's faces. He heard Connor chuckle beside him. Artha's mouth hung open as realization sank in.

Kitt stood with folded arms, her face just brimming with pride. She raised one hand and waved it around slightly. "Fire."

"Power." Parm grinned sheepishly, knowing that as Artha remembered him, he wasn't exactly what one would think of when they thought of the Power Booster.

Now it was Artha's turn to stare in shock. "You guys? Not that it doesn't work, but….Magna Draconis. I…this is so totally drac!" He did a little fist pump.

"Sure is Stable-boy," Kitt smiled. "Not exactly an easy job, but I'm sure you understand."

"I…yeah," Artha rubbed the back of his neck. "Guess I do."

"Ridiculous," came a scoffing voice.

Artha turned back to the man, face set in surprise. "Now Thruust," Connor began, "that's unfair."

"I find it quite fair. Connor, while you know I respect you, this is one thing that I expect us to disagree upon."

Connor nodded, sighing. "I understand Thruust."

"What?" Artha asked.

Thruust looked at him dismissively, continuing before Connor could even open his mouth. "No doubt Connor intends to have you at our front lines, or at the very least in a vital part of our operations. After all, you are the Dragon Booster and he believes you to be the end to this war."

Artha blinked his eyes in surprise. "And you don't."

"Of course; it's preposterous to think that a boy like you can save us, or that one single booster can do what three cannot."

Artha jabbed a finger at his own chest. "I'm not just a booster, I'm the Dragon Booster. And I've got Beau."

"Such cockiness is the downfall of many."

"It's true! And I'm not being cocky! The original Dragon Booster did it and I can too."

"The original Dragon Booster," Thruust said with absolute reverence, which turned to near disgust as he finished, "was not sixteen."

Artha gaped at him. "I…You…what does that have to do with anything? I'm still the Dragon Booster! You said yourself I did a good job dealing with Word Paynn!"

"Indeed," Thruust said in a monotone voice. " The original Dragon Booster saved the world, but don't let that make you assume that you must, or can, do the same. After all, what kind of Dragon Booster," he paused for a moment as the doors opened, revealing the guards, Delilah, Covert, Staind and last but not least, Beau, "lets the world burn as you have?"

"I…I didn't mean too!" Artha was left with his mouth nearly hanging open at the turn of events. Everyone had believed in the Dragon Booster before…well, nearly everyone. Even Word Paynn himself believed that the Dragon Booster was the one real threat.

Kitt was silently fuming while Parm had a hand on her shoulder, holding her back. Nevertheless, his own face gave sign of his own growing anger. Kitt stepped forward and he tightened his grip slightly. She glared at him, but he gave her a look she had grown to know very well. He was asking her to trust him. Parm knew that Kitt was furious for the way Thruust was belittling Artha, but Artha had to fight his own battles, especially in a time such as this when the Dragon Booster needed to be strong. Although, if Thruust continued this for much longer with Artha unable to finds the words to defend himself with, Parm would be more than happy to let Kitt go. That is, Parm thought as he looked over to Connor, if he didn't do anything first.

Thruust, meanwhile, continued on, spurred forward by Artha's silence that he took as defeat. With one last glance at Beau, he turned to the rest of the council, who had by now stopped their own conversations to listen intently, nearly all nodding their heads in agreement, save for a very select few; most of which who were standing up front with Artha. "And look how many died because you didn't mean to. You were right before, this isn't a small mistake. Hundreds of thousands have died because you didn't know what you were doing. The original Dragon Booster stopped a war that had already happened, beyond his control, but you've practically started this yourself. That armor was never meant for you, it was meant solely for him. You've just gained a hand-me-down, and those don't always fit."

His last words burned in Artha's ears as his mouth open and closed silently. His eyes found all the agreement in the room, and he suddenly found himself exhausted once more. They didn't even believe him, didn't believe that he could do it. He was the Dragon Booster, not the original, but the Dragon Booster still.

"That's enough, Thruust," Connor said sternly. "While I'm open for all opinions, don't forget that he is still my son, and I hope that in the future you watch your tone." Emphasizing the last words, it was clear that he had enough.

Thruust finally tore his eyes from Artha. "Forgive me, I got carried away." He bowed his head, but Artha's mouth was set in a firm line, clear dislike in his body language and glare.

"I've seen their power," Connor said, "Artha and Beau's. It was strong back then, and even though Word has gotten stronger and this whole world has gotten a lot more dangerous, training will provide them with enough strength again to save us."

"Yes, but," responded Thruust, "I stand by my original opinion. Artha is a great help, as the other boosters are; but nothing more. I do not think that he is capable of stopping the war and returning peace to the world. I think it is only in great folly that we will rest all our hopes solely on him."

Thruust turned to the rest of the room, looking them all over, finding where those who were in favour of his idea sat. Artha looked at the room in growing despair. "Who agrees?"

Nearly all the hands were raised, and those that weren't were half lifted, unable to decide. When some dragons snorted their approval, Artha realized that he hadn't really been very convincing.

Parm stepped forward, looking directly at Thruust and ignoring Artha completely. With his mouth set in a slight grimace, he announced, "I agree with Thruust."

While the crowd murmured approval and Thruust looked pleased with himself while still trying to retain his professional composure, Artha felt his mouth drop open. This couldn't be…not his best friend. He gritted his teeth together. How could Parm do this to him? He stared hard at Parm's profile, but not once did he look over. His eyes were set hard on Thruust, who took to looking back with a hint of suspicion in his eyes.

"Your approval is noted, Power Booster," Thruust said.

"Parm?" Connor questioned with incredulity clear in his voice, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

"Parm?" Artha echoed his father, though it was so quiet only the dragons near to him heard it.

Parm gave a knowing look to Connor. "Thruust is right. Placing all our hopes on Artha right now is-"

"Stupid, I get it." Artha clenched his jaw, glaring hard at Parm, who had stiffened when Artha interrupted him.

Parm kept his head upright and spared Artha only the slightest of glances. "Correct."

Artha looked over at Connor, who understood right away.

"I think it's about time we adjourned for the night. It's been a long day and our patience is wearing thin. I believe we've covered enough ground and that a good night's sleep will do us good. I also urge you all to take in our…new development. I'll see you all here tomorrow morning, usual time."

Thruust bowed his head. "I look forward to tomorrow." Connor nodded. Thruust turned to the recent traitor, whom Artha couldn't stand to look at right now. "Parmon, while I know you must be exhausted right now, I am eager to hear of your trip. Whenever you find time, I will be most appreciative if we could sit together and talk. Perhaps tomorrow, if events are not as tiresome as they may appear to be right now."

Artha heard Parm respond in his deep, unfamiliar voice. "I look forward to that, Thuust."

Traitor.

Artha turned suddenly and made to storm out of the room when he remembered that it wouldn't exactly be the mature thing to do; that, and his foot prevented any rash movements. He looked up and saw that Beau was currently giving the death glare to Thruust, and a most displeased glare to everyone else. Startled gasps caused Artha to turn around as the room went entirely silent.

All the dragons had bowed, and the humans had stood up from their seats in amazement, quiet whispers among them. Thruust was watching the entire thing in rigid surprise. Artha smiled. No matter what Thruust or anyone said about Artha and Beau, there was no denying that Beau was the black and gold Dragon of Legend. As Beau continued to hold his head high and regal, the dragons slowly stood up, softly talking to Beau. Thruust huffed at the dragons as everyone began to filter out of the room, eyeing Beau in curiosity, amazement or doubt, and there was certainly little amazement.

A movement from Beau and Artha found him lowering his head so Kitt could stoke it. Connor patted Beau's head as well, happiness and relief radiating from both. Artha couldn't help but grin. He looked again to the council, but locked eyes with the brown ones of Parm. He quickly looked away, remembering why he was so angry, the bitter feeling of betrayal welling fresh inside of him.

He turned and made it a few steps before he noticed Delilah and Covert, both of whom watched him with unreadable expressions. Too fed up to deal with anymore at that moment, he brushed past them and limped into the lobby, resting heavily on his makeshift crutch.

He angrily went a few paces before a hand grabbed his arm. "Follow me, Artha," came Connor's reassuring voice.

* * *

Artha stared absently out the window, seeing nothing but darkness and the various pricks of light from other buildings. He sighed and looked to the wooden floor, feeling extremely tired.

Connor had led them to a suite in an adjacent building, with more than enough room. It was even accommodating for dragons, allowing Beau to have his own room. Artha thought it was the greatest thing ever, and by the looks and sounds of it, Beau agreed. But at the moment Artha was resting in a large chair in the common room of the suite, his foot propped up on a table as Beau stretched out on the floor near the fire. Connor and Kitt had given up trying to talk with him on their way down, and Artha ignored their quiet conversations as he rode on Beau. When they reached the room, Artha had immediately sat in the chair, and as of yet hadn't said a word. Kitt had taken Delilah and Covert to their own place, wherever they were staying, Artha didn't quite know. He was thankful for that. He wasn't up to talking to them right now.

Artha couldn't help but notice that the feeling of being out of place in an alien world was so much stronger now that he was among friends. What used to be so familiar about them had changed so much, the stark contrast of which was overwhelming. Nonetheless, he was glad he finally had found them. He had to deal with it, he realized. They would help him readjust to this new life, however different it was. But he couldn't help but wish there was some way to make things normal again.

He looked up as Connor set some food near him. Artha ignored it, feeling anything but hungry at that moment. "Dad?"

"Yes, Artha?" Connor sat in a nearby seat, leaning forward with hands clasped, eager to answer whatever questions his son had.

Artha paused, and then asked the one question that had been burning in his mind ever since the meeting ended. "What," he began in a fearful voice, "what did you mean when you lost two sons? Where's Lance?" He looked into his father's eyes, searching for an answer that didn't end in death. His heart thudded in his chest, thinking he already knew what Connor would say.

He was taken aback when his dad smiled, albeit a sad smile. "It wasn't meant in the way you think, Artha. As far as I know Lance is…Lance is alright. I hope." His smile faded as worry took over. Artha breathed a sigh of relief.

"Why isn't he here?"

Connor didn't reply at first. When he spoke it was slowly and with difficulty. "We…we had a fight. We had different opinions concerning…"

"…concerning?" Artha prodded when Connor stopped.

"Concerning you, Artha."

"Me?"

"Yes. Lance, he…," Connor trailed off and sighed. "It was my fault, really."

As they both fell silent, Connor sighed, contemplating on the hurtful past while Artha processed the information, feeling pretty unhappy that he wasn't able to meet Lance, but feeling very happy that Lance was, reportedly, alright.

Artha looked up at his dad, at that moment just realizing how much this war had taken its toll on him, Kitt, Lance and even Parm. How hard must it have been to fight all these years? Artha wished he had been there for his dad, so he wouldn't have had to face his son's death, or to face what he thought was his son alive, only to see it as the trick it was. The guilt Artha felt grew greater, knowing that his mistake caused his family and friends so much pain and suffering. His father had so much on his shoulders now, Lance was lost, in a sense, and Kitt, though still with the same fire as she had when she was younger, felt different. He knew they all changed, he was a fool to think they wouldn't.

Perhaps the war had changed Parmon the most. It took his best friend away from him.

Glancing at Beau, Artha saw him lay his head on his paws, listening intently with a blank stare, no doubt feeling the same amount of guilt, if not more. "I'm sorry, dad."

"Don't be," Connor said with a hard voice. "That was an unforeseeable event. Lance and I acted in different ways, and both of us were not so considerate of each other's opinions. After you were first trapped and Word had fully captured Dragon City, we travelled to White Cliffs to regroup. It was too dangerous to stay there and too dangerous to stay in the wilderness, or anything less than thick, solid walls. At that time we were refugees; you must understand, Word had millions under his control and killed those who weren't. Whoever made it out from the city were only the lucky ones. We had no force strong enough to outright oppose Word, or even to try to free you."

It sounded exactly as Delilah had told him. Having the absolute carnage of that day told to him again made him think that he would feel guilty for the rest of his life. To hear it from his father's own mouth completely shattered all hope that it was all somehow wrong.

Connor continued, his eyes searching Artha for forgiveness, "I, we figured you would be alright for a week or so until we gathered enough strength to spring you free. But…how exactly did you survive?" The last question seemed to surprise him as well, as if he had just remembered to ask it.

"Got caught like the last time," Artha explained, looking over to Beau who nodded slowly. "It was stupid of us, to think that the track was safe. We should have been more careful. We should have known Moordryd was setting up a trap."

"But the Shadow Track, I thought that was broken." Connor furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"Not completely. I guess there was some active black shadow draconium left to trap us, and to let Moordryd get away with some."

"Yes, when we heard Word had recovered that draconium from the track, I had assumed it was a fluke. Everyone had thought it was impossible for the track to regenerate itself." Connor looked up brightly into Artha's eyes. "But thank goodness it did. You don't know how relieved I am to hear that. I thought you both had died…slowly."

As Connor's voice trailed off from the unthinkable prospect, Artha gave him a smile. "Well we didn't. We managed to blast our way out." By the way Connor's eyebrows rose in clear indication for Artha to continue, he did, recounting the journey he undertook in order to get to where he was right now.

At the end Connor shook his head slowly in disbelief. "That is one very lucky journey, Artha. You are lucky to have found Delilah and Covert."

"Yeah," Artha agreed. "They're good friends. I wouldn't have gotten far without them."

They both fell silent and Artha took a drink from the glass sitting next to his as of yet untouched supper. Knowing that it was going to go cold soon, he glanced over to Beau, who had already read his mind and was grinning impatiently. "Here you go, boy," Artha said, placing it on the floor. As Beau finished the dinner in one bite, Connor scratched his head, memories once again at the forefront of his mind.

Connor broke the silence with a pained voice. "Lance was right after all." He looked up to Artha. "He always believed you could somehow come back. We couldn't get enough support to free you right away. Lance was ready to go do that himself, all alone. He would've too."

"You did try though," Artha replied, in what even he was unsure of if it was a statement or a question.

"We could only attempt stealth missions to try to free you." He paused and stared at the floor. "None were successful and everyone involved died. After our final try failed…it was over four months after you had gotten captured." Connor looked up with tear filled eyes. "I thought you were dead."

Artha tried to swallow past the growing lump in this throat. "I'm sorry," he whispered again.

"Lance was rightly angry, but he didn't hate me for it. Years later Word created the fake Dragon Booster. Our spies had sent us confidential videos of Beau trapped in the rubble and the Dragon Booster attempting to free him. They even talked to them. I thought it was a miracle. Everyone was anxious to help you. We had a sizeable force by that time and marched to what we thought would be a surprise battle. We were wrong."

"I saw that when I got out of the Shadow Track," Artha said.

Connor nodded. "Lance had never stopped trying to get me to try to free you. Everything I tried failed or would have failed horribly. Word was guarding that track far too well. Lance suggested reckless missions. I tried telling him otherwise, that I couldn't stand it if he died as well. He believed you were still alive. But I didn't. I thought it was impossible. Artha, you must understand…."

"I know," Artha said, trying to placate his father, but at the same time feeling a sting of abandonment. "I mean, I don't want any more to die because of me."

"If I had known you were still alive in there…"

"It wouldn't have done anything," Artha said bitterly. "I would still have been trapped."

Connor appeared to accept Artha's explanation and continued, "Lance left after the fake Dragon Booster. He had found the energy gauntlet the year before, and-"

"Wait," Artha interrupted, head shooting up from itshis relaxed position. "Lance? A booster?"

Connor smiled. "It seems everyone around you is a booster, doesn't it?"

Artha paused to let the news sink in. Not his little brother? Really? Then he smiled. Of course Lance would be the Energy Booster. He knew his brother had more than enough in him. Pride swelled up inside him.

"So…he just left because he was angry at you?"

"Yes. He hated me, still hates me. He blames me for not doing enough. I let him down and I let you down. He blames me for killing you."

"That's not fair!" Artha cried with indignation. "You couldn't do anything! If you could have you would have."

"Sometimes," Connor said as he stroked Beau's head, "sometimes I wonder if I didn't take enough risks."

Artha fumed. "This is all Word's fault. Word and Moordryd's. Next time I see Moordryd, he is going to get the biggest, worst, most painful scale-"

"Artha, Moordryd's dead."

For a moment, the flow of time stopped and Artha could only stare at his dad. "He's what?" he said in astonishment when he found his voice again. Moordryd was by no means a friend of his, and though Artha would count him as an enemy, he would never have wished that fate upon him.

"He died when Word first took control of Dragon City; the day he trapped you in the track."

Artha gaped at his dad, who had said it without the slightest shade of regret or respect for the dead. Instead, he looked almost pleased.

Artha blinked, the initial shock quickly dying down. "That's-"

"-war," Connor finished for him. "That's life Artha. Life as it is now. Word started it, and although I don't think Moordryd deserved that, it's about time Word realized that there are consequences for his actions."

Artha put his head in his hands. "How many others are dead? Phistus? Chute? Pyrrah? Cain?"He would have gone on; listing every single person he knew if Connor had not stopped him with a heavy sigh.

"It's hard to say," he said simply, letting the cold truth sink in for his son. Artha bit his lower lip in a sudden bout of dread.

Beau, having listened to all this in an eerily silent way, suddenly raised his head and presently, Artha and Connor heard the door handles twist as Kitt entered, immediately seeking them out and giving Artha and Beau a reassuring smile. With resentment Artha noticed Parm right behind her. To his surprise, Parm wasn't the only one with her. Coming behind Parm was a young boy with brown hair.

Connor immediately brightened up from the dismal residue the conversation had left and gave a genuine smile. "Hey there, Hohp."

"Hi Connor!" the boy said enthusiastically, eyeing Artha as he plopped himself down on a couch, expecting Artha or Beau to do something amazing right before his eyes. He looked to be about the same age as Covert and Lance, when he was younger.

"Kitt, Parm," Connor greeted them.

"Kitt," Artha said, pointedly ignoring Parm, but then decided it was worth it to send him a disappointed glare.

"Hey guys," Kitt greeted and sat down among them as Parm remained standing, still in his armor. "Hey, Beau." Beau grinned and stretched his chin out, allowing her to stroke it.

From his peripheral vision, Artha noticed Hohp's interest shift from him to Beau. He leaned forward and asked excitedly, "is that the Legend Dragon? Excuuuse me," he said, correcting himself slightly sarcastically when Kitt arched an eyebrow at him, "the Dragon of Legend."

Kitt sighed. "Hohp, why don't you get something to eat? You've been complaining about that enough on the way down here. You can see Beau later."

"I can _see _him right now though," he responded with a grin, eyes set on Beau's face.

"Don't mistake that for a suggestion. Get going."

Hohp opened his mouth to protest, but relented when a smile born from a new thought spread across his face. "Fine," he agreed. He got up from his position on the couch and nonchalantly walked to the kitchen.

"And keep out of the candy."

"Scales!"

Artha watched the door to the kitchen where Hohp had gone through. "Who was that?"

"Hohp is my son, Artha," Kitt explained to him in a calm voice.

Artha had to replay that sentence in his mind more than three times before it began to make sense. "You…he's your son? That…that is just…."

"I know, it has to be weird for you," Kitt tried to sound understanding, but succeeding only in a disappointed tone.

Artha closed his mouth and took a moment to watch Kitt. "No," he decided, surprising her. She looked at him, a smile forming on her face. He smiled back, not seeing a strange person that had the old habits of someone he once knew, but seeing his friend. And this time, he told himself, he would always see her that way. "I'm happy for you," he said.

Kitt's smile graced her whole face this time. "Thank you."

Parm stepped forward. "And I…uh, owe you an apology."

Resentment turned Artha's smile into a disapproving frown. "I'll say." Parm sighed.

"Artha, firstly, I do not, under any circumstances, have the same views of you and Beau as Thruust does, despite what I said earlier."

Artha's absolute mortification at first thinking that his best friend had betrayed him began to lift. Slighty.

"Sure sounded convincing back there," he said skeptically.

"The council here is divided enough as it is. With the Years of War dawning upon us again, along with our current situation and that of both our allies and enemies, we cannot allow more dissuasion between ourselves." Artha only watched and listened as Parm spoke, silenced by the mere fact that the Parmon he used to know was not as up front or as bold as he was speaking right now. "I'm afraid to inform you, but the majority of the council does not believe in the Dragon Booster. They do not think that you and Beau can replicate what the original did. They are not ready for all our carefully made plans to get washed down the drain because you come back; which is a remarkable feat, by the way. Completely unexpected, why, I bet that even Word has not the slightest inkling of what has transpired! "

Artha made to agree with Parm, but a memory forced the words to stick in his throat. Unbidden and almost forgotten, it rushed to the forefront. At least two wraiths had seen him just as he left the Shadow Track, when he was still reeling and confused from the entire ordeal. Artha swallowed. Only Word, if he saw the footage, would recognize him, he was sure. And the chance that Word would see that? He was in charge of a large empire, and that wraith was likely just on patrol. Artha told himself to relax, but a small voice deep within him kept repeating that he had screwed up again and revealed himself to Word prematurely. He mentally shook his head and focused on what Parm was saying. Apparently he had missed a bit.

"…could organize it! Such a-." Parm was cut short as Kitt elbowed him in the stomach. Having not been hurt in the slightest due to the raiment he still wore, he nonetheless felt it and promptly shut up.

"So you stab me in the back just so the council can pay nice with each other?" Artha asked sharply, regretting the words even as he said them.

"I didn't mean to…Magna Draconis, Artha. I was just thinking ahead. I…I never meant to hurt you. As boosters, Kitt and I are trusted by the council. We can't both jump onto the bandwagon and pour praises at your feet before you do anything. Sorry, Connor," Parm added, glancing aside to him.

"But you aren't just going to put me in front of everything just yet, right?" Artha looked to his father.

"Of course not," Connor reassured him. "I intend you to acquire enough skill so that I feel safe putting you out there. But in the long run you will be a huge part of the army."

"And that is where the council disagrees with Connor," Parm said. "They don't want to scrap all their plans for the future in expectation of what you will do Artha. I agreed with Thruust so that they wouldn't be up in arms about it. You are the Dragon Booster, and you will eventually show everyone why. When that day comes, they'll have reason to follow you and they'll do it willingly. Until that day, my proposition was to keep them in conformity until then. Our status in this war is precarious enough as it is. Artha…I hope you understand."

"Yeah," Artha muttered. "I understand that I don't have a clue what's going on." He looked up to Parm's face. "Also that…it's cool. Between us, I mean. I just…really thought at first that you were…against me. And with everything going on now, I can't lose anymore friends, especially my best friend."

Parm broke into a huge smile. "You won't have to worry about that, Artha."

"I won't anymore," Artha said. Still curious about Parm's armor, he questioned him. "Where exactly were you?"

"Oh," Parm said, seemingly surprised at the question. He looked over at Connor. "Does he, uh…"

"He knows," Connor said.

"What now?" Artha nearly groaned.

Connor looked over at him. "Lance. Parm went to go talk to him."

"Really?" Artha asked. "What did he say?"

Parm rested a hand on the back of the chair Kitt was sitting in. Neither Kitt nor Connor looked very anxious, so Artha could only assume Parm had already told them while at the council. Parm glanced down at the floor. "It took a while, a long while to actually find him and then catch up with him." He fingered a particularly deep groove on his armor that was encompassed by the telltale scorch marks of a high voltage mag blast. He grinned up at Artha. "Ran into a bit of resistance on the way as well."

"Lance is alright though?"

Parm nodded. "As good as he can be. He's still of the mind to stop the war by doing whatever he sees fit. The main purpose of my mission was just to convince him to come back and participate in the talks, but he declined. By the sounds of it he was ready to spring wide open a Dragon Eye camp, and judging by the news from Staind, that's just what he did."

"Wait…," Artha said, piecing it together. "That attack on the camp…that was Lance? He was _that _close to me?" Parm nodded. "Wow," Artha breathed as he rested against the back of his chair, "Lance can kick butt."

"You bet he can, Artha," Kitt smirked. "I wonder what a little friendly fight between the two of you would result in?"

"I guess I'm not such a shoe in to win anymore, am I?" Artha asked knowing the answer. Connor chuckled. "I can't wait to see him."

"Well," Kitt began, "we'll see. Maybe you can bring Lance over to our side finally."

"I'll definitely do that. You can count on it," Artha said with determination. He noticed Connor's sad smile and swore that he would do it no matter how long it took.

He decided to steer the conversation away from Lance for the time being so he wouldn't have to see that expression on his father any longer than he had to. "So," he began with unbridled curiosity, "has the Shadow Booster been, you know, unmasked?"

Kitt shook her head. "He's the only booster that keeps his identity secret."

"No one's seen him," Parm informed him. "He rarely removes his armor."

Kitt looked sidelong at him. "You forget that I have. If he does take the amulet out of his gauntlet," Kitt explained, "his head is covered by a hood. No one knows who he really is. He works really hard to keep that a secret."

"Why?" Artha asked. "It's not like we're in Dragon City anymore."

"Fear of the unknown is a powerful tool," Connor said. "There are enough rumors circulating around about who he is."

"Oh," Parm interjected excitedly. "The best one is where he's actually Armeggaddon, or wait, where he's undead. Or Connor's other long lost son. Or a hybrid between dragon and human. Or…."

"We get it, professor," Kitt laughed. Artha smiled, the cheerful atmosphere reminding him of home.

"MOM!" Hohp yelled from the kitchen and prompting everyone to pay attention to him, "there's _nothing_ good to eat in here!"

Kitt rolled her eyes and Artha chuckled. "How old is he?" he asked her.

"He's eleven," Kitt said. "A bit of a handful, but he's a great kid." She then yelled back to the kitchen. "I'm sure there's something there."

"I said nothing good! Come and make me something, oh wait, can I have this?"

"Hohp, I can't see what you're holding."

A hand holding a box appeared in the doorway. It was something that Artha hadn't seen or heard of before, but it was clearly candy; the chocolate covered kind.

"I said no candy."

A pause from the kitchen, and then, "hey Dad, can I have some?"

Artha jumped slightly when Parm cleared his throat. "Maybe just one."

Kitt turned her head slowly to glare at him as a 'yes!' filtered in from the kitchen. Parm put up his hands apologetically. "What? He's growing, he needs food."

"Did he just call you dad?" Artha asked incredulously. Kitt and Parm looked at him, and then at each other. Connor sat back in the chair with a grin on his face as Kitt took the liberty of answering Artha.

"Did I mention that my new name is Kitt Sean?"

* * *

Absentmindedly rubbing the bandages covering the cut on his face, Artha fervently wished that he could either scratch it, or that it would stop itching. He concluded that it was the single most annoying thing in the world right now. His foot didn't even bother him that much, and that made him limp everywhere.

He sighed and blinked against the bright midmorning light and rested his head against the wood of the building he was leaning against. With a proper crutch in his one hand, he watched as Beau played dragball with the other dragons. As Artha discovered, it was always fun to watch the dragons play a game just by themselves.

As one of Beau's teammates scored a goal, Beau proudly trotted back to his end of the playing area, head held high. When he passed Artha he winked, and as he raced off after the ball again the dragons raced after him. Interestingly enough, they were all females, and Artha wasn't quite sure if they were chasing the ball or the Dragon of Legend.

The crowd watching the game cheered loudly, the numbers split quite cleanly between both dragons and humans. Artha couldn't help but swell up with a feeling of long overdue pride and happiness when he saw events like these, constantly wishing that these kinds of things had happened back in Dragon City as well.

Watching as the opposing team managed to score a goal for themselves, Artha nearly couldn't believe that it had just been yesterday that he had awakened in this place. Like an impossibly perfect dream come true, he couldn't believe his luck, luck that was brought about by the almost sure disaster that had been their capture by the Dragon Eyes. The past night had been a blur, and by the time Connor suggested that it was time for them all to go to bed, Artha was already asleep in his chair. That morning he had woken up expecting to find himself sleeping on the ground, and if luck would have it, Delilah would be making breakfast. Instead there was a roof over his head and Beau making a mess in the living room area.

He looked down at the ground as the noise of the little city filled his ears. Another loud cheer rose, causing Artha to glance up. When he did, he noticed Delilah.

"Uhh…hi, Delila-"

"Don't hi Delilah me!" she said, stopping a few feet short from him. Her face looked furious as she glared at him.

"Yeah," Artha said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry."

"Sorry?" she said loudly, and Artha found himself glad that she wasn't outright yelling. "I spend weeks, no, months with you, risking my life with you, all that I had and you don't even have the decency to tell me who you really are? Even after we come here, I have to hear it from Staind?"

Artha narrowed his own eyes at her. "Well, think of it from my point of view. I knew nothing of what was going on, and I wasn't sure I could trust you! Do you really expect me to blab the biggest secret of the decade to some random person I met?"

She crossed her arms. "Some random person you met?"

"…you know what I mean. I didn't know you."

"At first. Artha, by the end I thought we were friends! Didn't I prove that I could be trusted?"

"Well…I guess…"

"I get not telling me when you met me, but later? This is a huge deal! I just found out that I helped the Dragon Booster get to the Gold Empire. I helped the Dragon Booster! The one guy Word Paynn feels some sort of…of dread from. And I helped him!"

Artha spoke hesitantly. "Isn't that a good thing?"

"Y…Yes. I suppose so," she said, as if realizing just what she had done. Then she leveled a glare at him again. "But you should've told me!"

"I-I know. It's just that coming here, fifteen years in my future, I was…I didn't think I could trust anyone. And I didn't want to make any more mistakes than I already had done, so I was being overly cautious. I figured once I was safe I c…hey, I did try to tell you who I was!" He immediately snapped as remembrance suddenly took hold of him.

Delilah looked confused until she too recalled what had happened yesterday. "…I thought you were…confused."

Artha sighed."I told you, you just didn't believe me."

"Yeah well," she began, looking to defend herself. "You didn't try to convince me either. No proof or anything. You couldn't have expected me to believe you without proof. It's…it was common knowledge that the Dragon Booster died, after all."

"If you can believe it," Artha huffed, "I wasn't exactly feeling well enough to power up right in front of you. I had just woken up."

"Yeah, I guess," Delilah muttered after a pause.

Artha sighed and looked to make amends. "I'm sorry I didn't…tell you before. I guess I could've before we got caught by the Dragon Eyes." He looked at her, imploring her to accept.

However, though she didn't look as though she thought Artha's apology was enough, she eventually nodded her head. "Fine."

"I really am sorry, Delilah. Even telling you could've gotten you into trouble."

"How noble of you to protect me," she responded dryly. Artha sighed and let his head fall onto the building behind him. "Not to be…rude to you or anything," she continued, peering closely at him, "it's just that…you really do think that you're going to save the world, don't you?"

"Of course I do. And I will." He turned his head to peer back at her. "I know getting myself caught in the track wasn't the best way to convince everyone that I can do everything the original Dragon Booster could. But I'll show you." He pushed himself off the wall, suddenly sick of everyone's lack of faith in him and limped away.

Delilah watched him go, face set in a confused expression. "But there's only one Dragon Booster," she called out after him. "I-I don't want you getting yourself into trouble because you're disillusioning yourself."

Artha forced himself to ignore her.

"What if you are just another booster, and nothing more?"

* * *

"It's not true," Artha said to Beau after the match in an airy stable. Beau watched him worriedly as he paced, for the moment ignoring the gifts lying by his side that his growing fan base had given him.

"I mean," Artha continued, throwing his hands into the air, "does no one believe the prophecies anymore?"

Beau cooed to him and made other noises in his throat. Artha stopped long enough to listen and pretend that he understood. He gave up and sighed.

"Imagine," he said, crossing his arms, "if I understood you." Beau grinned and nudged his hand. Artha's face softened. "You're right; Connor will teach me how to understand soon enough." He gave Beau a noogie on the head. "Although I suppose the first thing you'll do is ask me for some draconee-yum bars." He laughed as Beau acted affronted, then relented with a sheepish grin.

Artha abruptly stopped laughing as a horrendous thought came to him. "Wait. What if they don't make those anymore?" Beau's expression was that of absolute horror. They looked at each other, dread on their faces, and then broke down laughing.

Beau was the first to quit. He lifted his head to the opening, entire body alert. When Artha looked it was one of the last people he expected; Thruust.

"It's good to see our young heroes healthy and relaxed," he said, stepping in uninvited. At their unified glares, he continued, brushing imaginary dirt from his uniform. "I understand that last night I may have seemed…rude, to a degree. But I want to assure you that I mean no ill will."

"Really," Artha mused.

Thruust's hard, scrutinizing gaze swept over his entire body. "I have full loyalty to Connor and to the cause. I am glad that Connor had regained his son and I am sure you will be an important part to our survival, in due time. Understand then, that if something happens or an idea or a motion goes through that I am not pleased with or do not think is ultimately good for the empire, then I will fight against it. I do not want animosity between us, booster, as I think is the present case. First appearances are important, and I believe mine for you was not under the best circumstances." Thruust extended a hand out to Artha, which Artha eyed warily.

Thruust sighed after a moment and turned to Beau. "I hope that you can see it in my view. Though I do not regret the appearance of either of you, I do think that Connor would have placed far too much trust on you."

"But I'm the Dragon Booster," Artha said, determined to fight back better this time.

Thruust acknowledged his statement with a slight nod of his head. "And this is what they call the Dragon of Legend."

"But he is," Artha retorted. Beau held his head high. "You saw how all the dragons in the meeting saw that."

"No disrespect, dragon," Thruust said to Beau, "but it is not possible that they are fooled? Appearances can be deceiving, and to be honest, yours is particularly convincing."

Artha narrowed his eyes. "He is! He's the black and gold Dragon of Legend, and it's about time you realized that." Spurred forward by the growing look of surprise on Thruust's face, Artha continued, "and we'll both end this war."

"I'll be the first to admit I'm wrong when that happens, but not a second before. I think Connor is blinded by hope, and though he does what is in our best interests, I cannot let him make these kinds of decisions when he is obviously biased, and wrongly so."

"He just knows our history better, and what power Beau and I hold."

Thruust looked at him in what Artha could only describe as pity. Artha ground his teeth. "This war and that responsibility," Thruust said in a soft tone, "is far too great a burden to be placed on the shoulders of a boy."

"I can handle it," Artha said. "Whatever happens I can handle it."

"War is no little matter. Why, I'm certain you haven't seen a proper battle, a deadly battle. Every moment your life hangs in the balance, and that of your comrades, your…friends. And to top it all off the fate of the world. Why, I'll bet you've never even thought of seriously injuring someone."

When Artha spoke he found his voice detached and strangely unemotional. "I've killed already. I killed Protyst."

"And how does that feel?" Thruust inquired. "Can you do it again, and again, and again, all in the name of peace? Can you do it the next time, and not accidentally? You are not ready to be placed in a battle anytime soon, and you are not ready to handle the kind of pressure that Connor is placing on you. He's leading you astray, Artha. He thinks he's doing what is best, to be sure, but you cannot save the world. And I think that leaving you off the battle field until you realize that is the proper course of action."

Artha was quiet as his mouth hung open slightly, suddenly too drained to bother with continuing the argument. Eventually he settled on glaring as Beau snorted. Thruust straightened up fully and smoothed down the front of his uniform. "Good day to you both," he said, preparing to leave. "Artha…just remember what I said. I'm not your enemy; I'm only doing what's best for you."

* * *

It was nearly a week later and not including the meetings which he attended as a booster, Artha had not spoken to Thruust. His mind was on other matters, particularly his healing. He thought he was walking rather well. The bandages covering the long cut on his face had come off, and Artha thought he looked more dangerous. His new scar stretched from nearly the middle of his forehead, through his left eyebrow and ended just above his cheek. Every day when he looked in the mirror, his first thoughts surprisingly weren't how different he looked or even what he'd gone though to get it. His thoughts usually consisted of, 'Magna Draconis, I almost lost my eye!' But he was getting used to it.

Currently he was walking down the halls with Parm and Kitt as they headed to the meeting room. As they walked slowly for Artha's benefit, Parm was telling Artha all about the training he would be undergoing under him. It had been decided that both Parm and Kitt would both be Artha's instructors. Though Artha was glad they were the ones ultimately chosen, it was impossible not to feel a little odd that they were the ones training him for a change; particularly Parm, who was teaching him hand to hand combat and weapons, of all things. Kitt was teaching him the mag moves, and from what she had been telling him, she intended to move quickly and that he'd better keep up.

"…quick. Before they notice," Parm said. "Precision is important, brute strength alone is-"

"-not everything. I get it Parm," Artha sighed. "I'm glad you're going to be training me when my foot is better. Can we lay off the lectures till then, just a smidge?"

"Lectures?" Parm echoed. "Hardly. Why, this basic-"

"Maybe that's enough for now," Kitt agreed with Artha. He sent a thankful glance over to her.

Parm huffed. "I suppose. But getting a head start never hurts either."

"I know," Kitt said and squeezed his arm.

Then Artha gagged and looked away as they gazed lovingly at each other. Now _that_ would take some getting used to.

As they finally reached the doors leading to the lobby before the meeting room, they slowed their pace as they discovered Connor anxiously milling about the doors with Thruust and several other council members. Artha and Kitt glanced over to Parm for answers, but he merely shrugged. The meeting, unlike the countless ones before, was expected to be quick and simple. Something had obviously happened.

When Connor turned his head to see them approaching, Artha knew something was wrong. He beckoned with his arm. "You're the last to arrive," he said and led the way through the doors. The council members followed, but Thruust lingered behind long enough to send Artha a venomous glare. Artha was stumped. What had he done now? Thruust had been polite enough to him at past meetings.

"Sounds big," Kitt said.

Parm groaned. "Great."

They entered the room and sat down at their seats, all attention immediately drawn to the huge monitor at the end of the room. Connor stood beside it and looked them all over. He waited until everyone, human and dragon alike, were quiet.

He held a remote, ready to activate the screen. "I know some of you have already heard the news, particularly those responsible for security. Our scouts have not reported in for two days now. At first we believed this to be because of a communications error, but that is no longer the case."

Artha felt Parm and Kitt tense and he leaned forward, elbows on the table, heart beating loudly in his ears.

"This message," Connor continued in a grave voice, "disproves that explanation…and also greatly lessens the chance for their return."

A wave of muttering rose in the room before it died down as quickly as it came. Silence reigned as Connor turned on the screen to play a recorded message.

Word Paynn's face appeared, gloating down at them.

"Greetings to you all."

Word's face twisted up into an evil smile and Artha felt his heart stop beating.


	19. Preparations

**A/N:** So, this was originally going to be part of one longer chapter, but this was as far as I have written on it and since I'm not sure how long exactly the next chapter will take, I've decided to post what I have now. It's short, compared to other chapters. Chapter after this will contain all the real excitement. :P

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Dragon Booster.

* * *

_Preparations_

His words were the chill that settled itself now permanently on Artha's back, slowly growing with every word he uttered. Never once did Word Paynn's face take on a different expression than that of his triumphant smirk or his eyes, burning with revelry at their failure. So many years had passed, and in those years lay the feelings of success for every day that they had remained hidden from the Paynn Empire; not so anymore.

"I might have congratulated you for staying hidden from me for so long, if I had not considered it the greatest display of cowardice that I have ever seen."

The dragons bristled at the insult as the humans frowned and glared at the screen. Connor, the only one who had watched it in its entirety, sat silent in his seat, listening to the words and feeling the rising tension in the room, yet never looking at the screen. He watched his eldest son, a look of sorrow and fear on his face.

Artha had his eyes fixed on the screen. Word…he looked like Word. He looked like he did exactly fifteen years ago. Artha couldn't see a hint of change on his features, and that realization alone pummeled away at his courage. What had Word done to himself? How powerful was he? Artha had only seen the wraiths, but images of what else he might have been able to come up with flowed through his mind. What if the wraiths were only the beginning of the legacy of the Paynn Empire? Word had defeated the Shadow Booster, the other boosters, the Dragon Priests and kept the Prophets at bay. The villain Artha once knew was likely an entirely different monster now.

"Your so called Empire, the most pathetic excuse for a resistance if I had ever seen one, has a limited number of days remaining. Even as I speak, your outer defenses have fallen. You are surrounded, and I am most eager to see your entire fledgling of an army burn, along with every citizen that you harbor who does not turn and swear fealty to me."

Artha couldn't believe what he was hearing and his anger intensified by the second. How he hated Word. He looked to his left and his right, to see the looks on his friend's faces, for the absolute anger he was sure to see. Kitt was leaning back with her hands latched onto the arms of the chair in a death grip. Artha could easily imagine worry for Hohp running through her mind. Kitt looked determined, and what Artha had learned about her in the past week was that she never had lost her will to win. If this coming battle turned as ugly as Artha feared it would, Kitt would die, whether in protecting Hohp or simply because Word couldn't afford to have any booster left alive. Parm, on the other hand, appeared pensive and deep in thought.

"Take my word for it, you will all die. But," Word announced, holding up one clawed finger, "only if I wish it. You see, I am in a good mood. And I believe a deal can be made."

"Unlikely," a voice muttered in the room. Artha agreed. He already knew what Word wanted.

Word leaned in closer to the screen. "I will let all of you go, completely free to go wherever you wish, provided my conditions are met. One: Mortis, you will come to the West gate alone and give yourself up peacefully. And two, the last condition: The Dragon of Legend comes to the North gate and gives himself up as well. Everyone else, including those other boosters and Dragon Priests with you, are free to go. My troops will leave with nary a dent in your walls. And yes, Dragon Booster, you are free to go as well. You see, I don't need you. Only Beaucephallus."

"Scales," Artha breathed in utter anger, clenching his fists.

"Meet these two simple requirements, and everyone else lives. As I'm sure, your first thought is to defy my requests and attempt to fight your way out. But, I can assure you, that is impossible. You may boast three boosters and quite a few competent fighters, and I'm sure that you will, in the long run, offer a challenging battle. But you must consider this - you have women and children in there as well. Can you really afford to fight me? I will tear your walls down, and every single person my wraiths come across will be shown no mercy whatsoever. You cannot hope to save them all, and their blood will be on your hands." Word's voice turned to mocking as he finished. "And I'm sure none of you want that."

"If by any chance you keep me out of your city, I will starve you out. If you choose an offensive stance I will destroy you. If you choose defensive you will all die painfully and slowly. If you choose to give up Mortis and Beau, you all live. Think about it carefully. I attack in one hour if these conditions are not met."

When the screen turned off, the room was silent for a moment before it erupted. No voice argued upon what course of action to take, they all vented their anger, fears and suspicions. Artha looked down at the table. Had he led Word here?

Connor, having enough of the yelling, stood up. "Enough. Enough!" he shouted and waited until everyone fell silent. The dragons rumbled their voices in the background. One red dragon spoke, and all the dragons listened carefully, while all the humans waited for a translation.

"Speede wonders how Word has found us, and if that way, whatever it is, can prove to be an obstacle for us in the coming hours," Connor explained.

Artha sat rooted to his seat, realizing that right now they were possibly deciding their own deaths. He felt sick and wished that war wasn't this hard, or this agonizing. His heart thumped away in his chest, the knowledge of what was to come surging through his veins and injecting growing fear.

Artha heard someone clear their throat, and looked at the end of the table nearly directly across from Connor. Staind stood up slowly, looking very guilty, voice wobbling slightly.

"We all know that, other than the scouts, no one has ventured outside the city. All our spies, as I'm told, are completely trustworthy."

A woman to the left of Connor nodded her head. "We know that since their last update with us their missions have been going well. Their last communications, going with the hypothesis that they have been captured since then, does not allow Word enough time to fully organize his troops and travel to us. I find it doubtful that they have disclosed our location, whether by torture from capture or from willing betrayal. Either way, it is improbable."

"Our spies," Parm said to Artha, "were all sent out on their missions with complete trust. Connor would not have let any of them go if he didn't trust them with his life or believe that their skills were inadequate." Then Parm spoke louder. "It is also doubtful that our scouts or outer patrols have disclosed our location as well. When they stopped contacting us is when Word was already enroute. He knew about this from another source."

"And that is where I believe that…I am at fault," Staind replied, shaking his head slightly. "My party was the last and only other group to leave this city when we rescued our fellow member and found the Dragon Booster. I think that we may have been followed somehow."

"Somehow indeed," Thruust mused. "You left the Dragon Eye camp through teleportation gear, and unless the Dragon Eyes had their own gear close at hand to analyze the leftover wavelengths from your trip, it's impossible that they followed you from that way."

Artha sighed as he sensed what was coming next. He knew he was right when Thruust turned to him sharply. "Dragon Booster, have-"

"You can stop right there," Kitt snapped. "Don't go blaming Artha because you don't like him."

Thruust looked affronted at the accusation and Artha knew it was a façade. "I only intended to ask him whether he's had a run in with the Paynn Empire before. Perhaps it's possible he was recognized and followed closely. It isn't that much of a stretch to suppose that Word has been working on a way to detect teleportation more efficiently."

Artha bit his lower lip. Had Word seen the video the wraith might have recorded when he saw him? What if he did? Did he lead him here? The very notion that he had done just that hadn't been more real or seemed so plausible then it did right now.

"Artha?" Connor inquired when he didn't defend himself.

"I…uh," Artha stammered, to ashamed to say anything further, or even the dreaded yes.

Thruust grunted. "Perhaps he did? Is it possible?"

Artha lowered his head. "Maybe."

"Maybe," Thruust echoed, making the one word sound so ridiculous and cowardly.

"Yes, I might have," Artha asserted himself. "It's possible. But I…it was an accident. I had just left the track, I didn't know what happened, and I had no idea it would be so important that I didn't let them see me."

Thruust's mouth twitched in annoyance at what he surely considered Artha's ineptness. Connor chimed in with the blessed voice of calm and reason. "Can you be so confident that you would have done differently, Thruust? We stand here now in a time when we need to band together, not point fingers. There was no intention for Word to find us or to bring down this empire. We need to discuss our course of action." And as Connor predicted, the room became full with the various opinions of both human and dragon.

"We can't let you go; you know Word has wanted to capture you for a long time! It's suicide!"

"We can't lose another booster!"

"But he'll destroy us!"

"We can fight!"

"We won't last long against Word!"

"Silence, silence! We'll use the tunnel!"

Everyone quieted down as Parm closed his mouth and continued in a softer voice. "There's a tunnel in case of such circumstances such as this. Reports say, that as far as we can tell, Word has brought enough wraiths so that a victory through fighting isn't realistic. Word isn't lying; if he doesn't kill us on the battle field he'll kill us by starving us out, if he doesn't overrun our walls first. "

"Parmon's right, we need to evacuate the city," Kitt said, looking for anyone who disagreed.

As Artha listened he was glad that a shred of hope was still left, but worried that something would inevitably go wrong. Connor nodded, having already come to the same conclusion. "It's our only chance. We'll have our elite fighters guarding our walls to keep Word at bay long enough for us to escape. Everyone needs to pack what they can and head to the storage bay besides the armory; the tunnel entrance is in the basement."

Thruust had been rubbing his chin as he listened, no doubt looking for holes in the plan. "If Word is impatient enough he'll attack recklessly and simply storm over our walls and drown us in his wraiths. However since he wants Connor and the Dragon of Legend, alive if my guess is correct, he'll need some organization and control to avoid the accident of killing them. We all know Word is extremely confident in his power and he likes to get exactly what he wants. I think that Word will restrain himself in attacking so he can decide the best way to get Connor, and that will give us enough time to get everyone out. And hopefully by the time he realizes our plan, we'll already be gone."

"In case excitement overrides his reason, we all need to assume the worst and prepare for it," Connor said, clenching his fists at the thought of facing his former friend again. The years of war, death and hatred between them had extinguished whatever bit of nostalgic thoughts they had towards each other. When you were each responsible for killing each other's sons, then as Connor knew, there was nothing but hatred between them now. Relief about Artha almost caused him to smile before he realized that he could still lose him so very easily, and that Word might want to finish what he should've done a long time ago. Artha wasn't safe.

"Connor, you need to stay out of sight," Kitt's voice broke into his musings. "If Word sees you he'll jump at the chance to capture you. The last thing we need is to entice him to attack quicker." Connor nodded without verbally answering, his silence relaying his frustration at the turn of events.

As the conversation quickly decided the battle plans, diversions and evacuations, Artha sat rigidly. In his mind he had caused the war, and he was just beginning to deal with that, to accept it and do whatever it took to right it. But being the reason for destroying what Connor and the others had so painstakingly built all these years…. Artha sighed and rested his elbow on the table with his head in his hand. He couldn't deal with that. All he had done so far was mess everything up. That thought ate away inside him, kept him up at night, and now wouldn't stop whispering in his ear. He was the cause of all their problems.

Kitt sighed and looked at the clock, the usually friendly and familiar clock, the one thing that could be counted on. But today it counted down their lives, and Kitt wondered what time it would be when she died, or when Parm died, or Hohp, or Artha. Word was attacking the city, the one place they were safe. No matter how many battles she had been in, the onset always took a strangling hold on her, smothering out everything except the consequences should she fail. She clenched her teeth and this time, like all the others, she steeled herself for the fight, to do what the others wouldn't and to save those she loved. But now…now there was hope. She glanced beside herself to find Artha looking dejectedly at the table. She sighed. This was too much, too fast for him.

"While I hold the line with squads three, four and five, Kitt will lead the first and second, acting upon any offensive strikes as needed," Parm said, voice level as he stared hard at the map trying to decide a battle plan with as little information as they had about Word's forces to go on.

It was simple and quick. Parm and his men would hold back Word as he tried to break through their defensives. Kitt led the offensive attacks. If Word's forces proved too be too much for the walls, Kitt would rush in and break up his line. It was her job to stop Word from becoming too organized and to assist Parm's team if any of them became overrun with enemies. Because of the speed of her and her team, they were able to get around the battle field quickly, though today her strikes would be less offensive than they usually were. Defense was their strategy and the key to getting everyone out in time.

"And then what?" A man nearly yelled in exasperation, waving his hand about. "Let's say we get everyone out, a best case scenario. Then what? Word will just follow us in the tunnel."

"Not unless we blow it up," Connor said grim-faced. "The tunnel branches out into a maze a few miles in. If we blow up the tunnel before the maze begins, by the time Word manages to dig through that, if he can dig through that, he won't know which way we've gone. If he does manage to track us, we'll have used the teleportation gear and be long gone."

"And by the time he reaches that spot, the wavelengths will have faded," Parm finished with hope in his voice that needed no second thought, for by now it was a habit to strengthen the troops, whether he actually believed it or not.

The man huffed and sat back down. "If nothing goes wrong, that is."

Connor sighed. "Our only chance to evacuate everyone safely is to collapse the tunnel."

Connor turned to Thruust and gave him a responsibility that left Artha with his mouth open. "Thruust, you're in charge of that. If you see too many of his wraiths coming, then blow it up."

Artha's mouth was set in a firm line of disapproval. He stared none too friendly at Thruust, who, to his surprise, looked horrified rather than pleased at the important role he was to play. His face passed through many conflicting emotions before he stiffly nodded his head. Connor nodded back, simply trusting Thruust to do his job.

Parm leaned over to whisper in Artha's ear. "Whatever you do, don't go running around. Do exactly as you're told." In response to Parm's deadly serious tone, Artha jerked his head once in a nod. Appearing satisfied, Parm moved back into his regular sitting position, but gave Artha a deep look to drive his words home.

"Artha." Connor drew his attention with his voice. "Do what Thruust tells you. Do not go searching for a fight."

"Okay," Artha replied.

"I mean it, Artha," Connor said, "if Thruust tells you to follow everyone down the tunnel, you go without question."

"Okay Dad," Artha said, a bit miffed that he was being treated like a baby.

"Don't worry Connor," Thruust intoned. "I'll make sure he's in before the blast." Artha looked at Thruust, who made a point of not looking back when he realized Artha was staring at him.

Artha narrowed his eyebrows in dawning understanding. "You'll wait till my Dad's there too, right? I won't leave-"

Connor interrupted Artha. "You'll leave when Thruust tells you to leave."

Artha stared incredulously at his father's words. "Wha- I'm not leaving you!"

"Artha, if I'm unable to escape before the blast it means that I'm dead, gravely injured, captured or that Word has broken through, and if he has I can't allow the tunnel to remain open. The safety of everyone else comes first."

Artha opened his mouth for a rebuttal that never came. He swallowed thickly as his father now looked to him with pleading eyes. "Artha," he nearly begged, "promise me." Unable to deny his father, Artha nodded his head, but as soon as Connor looked away, Artha frowned. Was he supposed to lose his father again? He balled his hands into fists, promising himself that he wouldn't let it happen again. But he already felt helpless.

Connor looked apprehensively at the clock. "We've been here long enough; we're running short on time to organize the troops and the evacuation. If that's all I suggest we adjourn the meeting."

Chairs scrapped the floor as they were pushed back as everyone, human and dragon alike rose quickly and headed for the exit. Artha paused to look at his father, who sighed heavily and rubbed his head tiredly. Anger at being told that he would potentially be ordered to let his father die was immediately replaced by a wave of sadness as he watched him. He took a step in his direction, hand half raised and mouth half open to speak with his father, but was cut short by Thruust who planted himself firmly in Artha's way.

"There's no time, you must come with me right away," he demanded.

"In a minute." Artha gritted his teeth and tried to sidestep around Thruust.

"No," Thruust said, blocking his path once more. "Right now."

Artha glared at him. "I said-"

"Go, Artha."

Artha whipped his head up to stare at his father. "But Dad…."

Connor smiled tiredly. "Go Artha, we need all the help we can get to guide people into the tunnel while everyone else is preparing for battle. I'll…I'll see you soon."

"Promise?"

Connor paused, mouth half open, clearly wanting to say yes, but terrible reality forcing him to reconsider that option. "I…I promise to do my best, Artha. I'll do whatever it takes to get myself, Parm and Kitt into that tunnel. Now go," Connor finished with a resigned sigh. "There is plenty to do."

"Alright," Artha said glumly, having no other option except to take his father's word. "…see you later Dad."

Connor's comm-link then buzzed and Artha let Thruust lead him away. Relax, Artha told himself. Connor's fought before and so have the others. He wouldn't leave him again.

Artha quickened his pace as Thruust nearly began dragging him along. Sparing Artha only a short look of exasperation, Thruust powered forward, just short of breaking into a sprint.

"You'll need to go and tell everyone of the plan. We can't risk telling everyone by comm-link and have Word intercept it. We've got less than half an hour. I'll head over to the medical and south districts and get everyone there organized. Sylence will get the tunnel opening ready. I want you to go to the north and warn everyone there. Keep them calm."

Artha nodded as he trailed Thruust, noting that the north district was where all the housing and stables were located.

Artha nearly ran into Thruust as he suddenly stopped walking and turned to face him. Regaining his slightly lost balance, Artha was surprised to see Thruust looking a little hesitant.

"Listen, Artha, I…I promised Connor not to let anything happen to you. When our hour is up and Word realizes that we don't intend on giving him what he wants, you get to the tunnel straight away. I don't care if you still have people and dragons to warn, you'll need to find someone else to do that for you. You need to go to the tunnel and stay there. I'll try my best to keep an eye on Connor." At the hopeful and brightening look on Artha's initially confused face, Thruust corrected himself. "Not for you, but it's because Connor is…he's a great leader and I respect him." Artha had the notion that Thruust had been going to say something else, but let it slide.

"But what about the bomb? If you're looking after my father…."

"I can detonate the bomb remotely if it comes to that. When I notice that the wraiths are getting too much to handle, even if Word's forces aren't quite at the point when I would consider detonation, I'll warn Connor ahead of time to make sure he gets into that tunnel. He's our leader and we can't afford to lose anything further." Thruust finished by turning his head from Artha, and Artha knew that he meant the city.

"I just thought I'd let you know," Thruust finished somewhat awkwardly.

Artha smiled. "Thanks Thruust." Thruust merely harrumphed and strode away.

Artha headed in a different direction, already searching for Beau, but paused when he heard Thruust's voice call after him in one last piece of advice and warning. "Just get to the tunnel when the hour is up!"

When Artha turned around, Thruust had already hurried away and Artha knew it was about time he did the same. He strode forward to the north, knowing that Beau would probably be near the large stables there talking with the other dragons.

He smelt it before he heard it. Artha nearly covered his nose at the sudden waft of the smell of something burning. He glanced around, wondering if a building had caught on fire. Though draconium was the dominating materials used for construction, there was still a considerable amount of wood in use. Seeing nothing in his vicinity he grew steadily more confused as the smell grew stronger. Then he heard it.

He heard the roar of the fire as it snapped and cackled, and seconds later he saw where it was. Thick, black smoke was billowing over the walls. Artha stood and watched horrified as flames leapt up meters higher than the wall itself, a testament to its size. Ash and bits of burning debris floating down around him as the massive fire raged on, the wind carrying the smoke right into the city and blotting out the sun. Artha closed his stinging eyes tightly and blindly ran to the north doing his best not to run into anybody. He ignored the shouts of people as they looked for water.

Finding a little relief behind a building he coughed into his arm. Did Word plan to burn them out? No, the hour wasn't up yet. Artha shook his head, took as deep a breath as he could manage and ventured out once again, nearly blind. Looking back on it he would realize that it had been quite stupid of him to do so, considering just how many dragons thundered inches by him.

But he had to get to Beau, and that one thought remained in the forefront of his mind as he raced on.

* * *

Slamming his hand hard against the saddle on Abanddonn, Drakkus narrowed his eyes at the VIDDscreen before him, clearly more than a little displeased. "You…are….,"

Skin eyed him angrily as she snarled at him. "Had you told me who this kid was exactly, this-"

"Enough!" Drakkus shouted. "Do not blame your incompetence on me! Had you done your job the Dragon Booster would be in my clutches right now! Instead you had to make a deal behind my back and make things more complicated."

Skin's visible eye widened. "I never would have made that deal with the Shadow Booster had I known that child was the Dragon Booster."

"And now he knows," Drakkus bemoaned as he pressed a hand to his helmet in a subconscious effort to massage his temples.

"Well," Skin sniffed. "You should be able to get him now. Of course, if you can…."

Drakkus growled and shut of his VIDDscreen. As useful as Skin was, sometimes she was infuriating. He let his eyes rove over his army, the very dark purple colours meshing together in a sea of glinting black, dotted here and there by the yellow eyes of the possessed. They stretched around the city now in incredible numbers. Looking behind himself he could see others still coming from the direction in which his teleportation gear lay. This was one battle he wasn't skimping on wraiths for.

He shifted himself on his dragon as they began to move forward, lumbering slowly in no hurry. Abanddonn stopped, crunching charred trees under his foot and raising clouds of ash causing the wraiths closest to him to sneeze and cough. He surveyed the damage.

The fire had been put out quickly, and the last of the wraiths carrying his special foam for just that purpose were leaving the burnt area. Trees had been growing in thick bunches twenty meters from the wall. If one did not breach that wall of trees, the city was easily overlooked. For the twenty meters between the trees and the city walls were fortifications, and mainly as Word discovered, traps. Deep holes covered by tarps disguised as the ground with stakes neatly arranged at the bottom. But the fire had destroyed those and left the traps now visible and their usefulness drastically lowered.

All the trees around the city were burnt to a crisp. When they went into battle, of which Word was certain of, the trees would be a hindrance to his army. For a smaller army they would have provided coverage, but with his numbers Word wanted mobility over cover. Wraiths plowed ahead, knocking the blackened stumps to the ground as they spread in formation.

The walls, impressive considering the budget this 'empire' was on, but in the grand scheme of things didn't present that great of a challenge. The challenge here was the opposing warriors, but Word had just the things for that.

Taking cover with cloaking gear they hid behind Word. He needed to look closely in order to see the faint signs that they were in fact there. Word grinned under his mask; controlled former elite racers. Just yet another battle they would prove their value in.

He looked ahead again, noticing with satisfaction the efficiency of his wraiths as they stood in their positions, bristling with malice. Mortis would be his, and if they did end up agreeing to his terms, Word would be sorely disappointed. He wanted to take it all by force, for nothing could match that feeling of raw victory.

Drakkus looked at the time and noticed that it had expired. Glancing up ahead at the Northern Gate, it remained closed. Drakkus tapped his fingers on the saddle, grinning.

He held up his hand, ready to signal the assault to begin, but lowered it when the gates moved. He was floored, and could only sit in surprise until they slowly opened all the way. Surely they hadn't even considered his terms? Then he laughed at what was revealed.

* * *

"Yes, to the…no, near the town hall! No you can't pack, you have to go now!"

Artha groaned as the more stubborn people crossed their arms and demanded explanations. Beau seemed to be having no more luck with certain dragons as they firmly stood their ground with displeased faces. However, most people had gone back in their homes to gather what they could carry, and as far as Artha could tell, the majority of them were headed on their way to the tunnel.

"Look," Artha said, pinching the bridge of his nose, "you don't want to be stuck here when the battle starts. You saw the fire? It's going to be like that, except in here. You have a few minutes to grab what you can carry."

Annoyed faces coupled with tinges of uncertainty and fear finally disappeared as they left with a brisk walk. Artha sighed and looked to Beau, noting that he still had quite a few streets to warn personally, but no doubt word had spread already.

With one hand on Beau's saddle, his comm-link beeped. He sighed knowing who it would likely be. He was right.

Thruust eyed him for a moment, leaving Artha to wonder just what went through his mind. But before he could dwell on that further, Thruust's demeanor changed and he professionally stated, "The hour is up. I expect to see you here very soon. You will stay by the bay doors and keep everyone calm. I will notify you when the time comes for you to get into the tunnel." With one last look to make sure Artha understood that he was fully expected to do obey without question, Thruust terminated the connection. Artha sighed, slightly off put by how cold Thruust had been, which was to say the least, quite a difference from when they had last spoken.

Artha pulled himself into Beau's saddle, righted his helmet and glanced around. Noticing a young woman he had kept his eye on since coming here, he headed towards her. As Beau's shadow fell upon her, she stopped from directing people and looked up at Artha.

He smiled down and said in his most diplomatic voice. "Could you do me a favour? I'm supposed to be warning everybody about the uh, evacuation but I've been called to head somewhere else. Could you handle everything around here? Maybe get some other people to help you out?"

"Oh sure, no problem," she said with a strong voice, but the anxiety growing on her face left Artha with a bad feeling.

"Thanks," he said. Beau gave her a smile as realization dawned on her face of who she had just met.

Artha tore his gaze from her and stared down the street towards his destination as Beau galloped along. She had looked so surprised and so…amazed, and it sickened Artha to think that it was directed at him. How many times in Dragon City had he reveled in those expressions, in the looks and words given to him directly and indirectly? But now, more than ever before, he felt undeserving of it. He had told himself days ago that he would become the hero this world needed and fix his mistakes, but leaving like a coward when thousands of innocent lives were being threatened? Riding past them as they walked or rode, knowing that if it came down to fleeing or staying to the bitter end to protect everyone, that he would be in the tunnel, hiding. He felt like he was abandoning everyone.

The giant crowd slowly, that slowly moved forward into the storage bay came into view after a long, quiet ride. Artha gripped the saddle's handles with renewed tension as he let his gaze wander from the yawning gap of the large doors to the skyline beyond the distant walls, praying that everyone would come through all right.

Elsewhere, the battle was just beginning.

* * *

**A/N:** Just to clarify, everyone including Word knows that Parm is the Power Booster, Kitt is the Fire Booster, Lance is the Energy Booster and Connor is Mortis. Likewise everyone knows that Word is Drakkus. The only person with a secret identity is the Shadow Booster, whom no one knows who he really is.

And as always feel free to tell what you don't like about my story or writing. ;) Only way I'll get better. lol


	20. Assault

**A/N**_: _This is a bit of a short chapter, but since it's been a while I'd thought I'd post this. The next part will hopefully not take me as long to do, and I don't think it should. But we'll see how much time college allows me. lol Thanks to everyone who gave reviews, they not only encouraged me to write faster but they reminded me I had a story to begin with. I forgot about this, with college and all, but I'll do my best to continue writing this. :)

**Disclaimer**: I don't own DB.

_Assault_

In his mind, this wasn't a horrific act of hate or war, this was justice. Justice so long in the making, that the very thought of its completion made his heart beat ever faster. He would bring justice for the death of someone too young, justice for a world that deserved safety under his command and justice for the sake of justice, because there was never enough. And now, in the knowledge that it would be taken in such a way that the future, universal rule of his empire would be that much more closer to finality, Drakkus laughed, deep and long. It was all coming together so nicely.

The Power Booster, the only living thing that Drakkus had seen come from the city thus far, sat tall on his dragon and endured the insanity of the laugh. When it died down, Parm called out, "I believe you know our decision."

Drakkus sighed happily. "I must say, I'm a bit surprised; I do wonder how exactly you feel about killing everyone within your…city."

Parm inclined his head, mouth set firm in a scowl. "Word, you don't need to kill everyone. The wo-"

"-the women and children don't deserve it, I know," Drakkus interrupted. "The young dragons are innocent as well. Why, perhaps I should let them all go."

"Do not mock us," Parm said in a low voice.

"Mock you I shall, until you prove to me that your 'empire' does not deserve it." Drakkus regarded the Power Booster with a tilted head. "But of course, such an undertaking would be impossible. You can't expect children to do the work of warriors. And warriors I have, in the tens of thousands!" Word spread his arms wide, and Parm couldn't help but glance around him at the waiting wraith army behind Word.

"While you," Drakkus continued, in a lower voice, "rely on a child to save you. "

Parm grinned behind his mask. "To you anyone must seem like a child. How does it feel to get beat by one? Especially one you hold in such low regard."

Drakkus huffed and clenched his hands. "I went easy on you all in the past. I couldn't show my true power, but now, now I have no need to hide from the public. Now you shall see again…like you've seen before."

Parm's grin faded with every word spoken and eventually set in a firm scowl.

"You remember the village that used to lie on the border of the Blue Empire and the Red? I know you do. That was a fantastic battle, wasn't it?"

"_No,"_ Parm thought to himself, closing his eyes in guilt. _"He's just trying to rile me up. Get me to do something idiotic. I will not let that happen."_

Drakkus watched his bowed head that shook slightly in barely repressed anger. Drakkus sighed. "I do hope you know what will happen here." He leaned forward, the taunting almost as fun as the moment of winning itself. "The exact same thing."

Parm's eyes snapped open. He breathed heavily as images of a flat, smoking village replaced the one behind him, and anger welled up inside. For a moment he thought he might break, but then he breathed out and relaxed as the anger was replaced by a grim realization. Word was right. Parm looked up into the green eyes of Drakkus. The exact same thing would happen to the village. But this time, however, he would make sure that a body count was not included in that destruction.

"I may have made tactical mistakes in the past that had great consequences, and like all mistakes, I've learned from them. It will be different this time."

"Hmm," Drakkus mused, "I wonder if it will be."

"The most dangerous dragon is the one that is cornered. Remember that, Word, and do not take us lightly."

"But dead dragons are not dangerous at all," Drakkus hissed, "and so shall you be."

Parm scrutinized Word as his steeled nerves hardened through countless battles and threats placed a dry grin on his face. If Word was overconfident, then the tide of battle may be shifted so that Connor's plan could succeed. "I hope you aren't placing too much trust in those wraiths of yours. They can't think, and we know that's a problem on the field. You don't have warriors Word, you have cannon fodder."

"Enough!" Word yelled. "These are not ordinary wraiths. I've brought a new foe for the Dragon Booster. Your hero deserves the very best. He'll go down as a Dragon Booster should; in vain and right on target."

"This is the day your _Empire_ crumbles and your dragons fall. Enjoy your last breaths. When the sun sets, I'll have won!"

Behind Word, the wraiths suddenly bellowed and the riders yelled. As his attention was drawn by the sudden commotion, only his quick battle reflexes allowed Parm to lift his hands and block Word's mag-stream attack with one of his own. The purple energy that met his own green crackled mere feet from his face.

"Ugh," he grunted. "Too close. Word's gotten quicker than last time."

The sound of energy increased, and without even needing to look down, Parm knew that Cyrano was countering Abanddonn's stream. They were in a compromised position, Parm realized. Looking to the left and right showed wraiths stalking closer. He couldn't let down his attack without having Word's hit him, and he couldn't fend off the wraiths when he was holding off Word's mag-stream. If it was anyone else it wouldn't have been a problem. But Word was strong and his mag-stream was difficult to hold back.

Drakkus smiled in glee as he noticed the Power Booster's dilemma, and focused more on his mag-stream, giving Parm no leeway.

"If that's the way you wish to do it Word, then so be it." Parm slowly removed one hand from controlling the stream and shakingly lowered it to his saddle controls. Sweat poured down his face with the intensity of holding Word back with only one hand; he could feel the heat of Word's mag-stream coming closer, almost too close. "Just a little more."

Word had a few seconds to wonder what on Draconis Parm was doing before Parm's finger met a certain switch. The green mag-energy instantly pushed the purple back with such speed that Word's hastily made mag-shield came too late. He cried out in frustration as he flew through the air and landed on the ground in a cloud of dirt behind Abanddonn.

Abanddonn growled and intensified his own mag-stream against Cyrano.

Parm looked to the approaching wraiths and sent out multiple mag-bursts from each hand, driving back the wraiths on his right and left simultaneously. The rest of the wraith army growled threateningly and powered up one by one.

Parm looked them over. "It's time to leave, Cyrano." Cyrano grunted in acknowledgement, and with Parm's help managed to blast Abanddonn in the face. The behemoth staggered back a few steps and shook his head, roaring in indignity.

Cyrano swung around and raced through the gate as it closed. The volley of mag-blasts from the wraiths hit the gate with sharp thuds that echoed. The few that made it into the village harmlessly struck empty buildings.

"Secure the gates! Take your positions!"

Parm ignored the shouts and leaned over the saddle, breathing heavily and wishing he could wipe his forehead. That emergency mag-pack he had certainly came in handy, but now it was empty. He shook his head and sat up straight, No time to linger on that, he only hoped what little time he had been able to buy by stalling Word was enough. Speaking of Word….

Parm turned on his VIDDscreen. "Kitt? You were right. Word has some new cards up his sleeve."

"Scales."

* * *

Word stood up and glared at the gate as it clanged shut. He squinted his eyes slightly at the bright lights as the mag-blasts left little more than black marks on the door. Then he laughed.

When all this was over he'd make the Power Booster pay. Such acts as he had done were ultimately useless and would certainly seem so when Word towered over their broken bodies in the midst of the smoking ruins. There would be only one victor, and in one day, Word would take everything he wanted; Connor Penn, the Dragon Booster…and his dragon. With that dragon, smashing the remaining Empires would be easy and the Black would have no choice but to bow to him.

Word looked behind himself to his army and raised his right arm. Abanddonn lifted him and placed him in the saddle where Word brought his arm down in a sweeping gesture and shouted, "attack!'

The wraiths roared their understanding, powered up and let loose their energy.

* * *

His claws gripped the ground in frothing anger as his eyes grew wide at the sight before him. At a loss for words, Propheci darkened his features with a low growl. "Humans will pay."

The wraith army stretched for miles before him, where he stood on a grassy knoll concealed by the trees. Thousands upon thousands of dragons who had their freedom taken away in such a horrible way marched slowly towards the village. Propheci looked to where the last of the heavy, black smoke was just disappearing into the atmosphere. It was still a ways away yet. No doubt Word was attacking something, but what it was exactly Propheci didn't know. What army would be here? There was nothing in this region, so perhaps they were en route to a battle field and Word had ambushed them. Whatever the case, Propheci saw thousands of dragons who needed help.

He turned his head to Sycundys, who was watching him closely. "We shall begin. It is illogical to take prisoners today. Kill all the human wraiths."

Sycundys nodded her understanding and raced off with several other Prophets who were standing close by. When the only thing that accompanied Propheci was the wind blowing through the trees, he went down the hill another way. If today would prove to be so kind, Word Paynn would fall into his paws. He just needed to be ready.

The wraiths walked onwards to move into their assigned positions, unaware of the dragons deftly sneaking by in the forest. All communications between them were done by small flicks of the tail or quick motions with their paws, and as such they moved silently. They crouched in the tall grass and behind trees and bushes, eagerly awaiting the order to avenge dragon-kind.

Silently the signal came and they rushed forward. They wove in between the straight lines of the wraiths and jumped on their backs, ripping the humans from the saddles and slashing away at the control gear. The wraiths paused in a moment of confusion, but then fought back, throwing them off and meeting mag-stream for mag-stream.

Word Paynn, seated at the head of the army, heard nothing. His ears were full of the sound of mag energy hitting the energy shield that protected the city. Once this was down, the walls would be stormed and whoever was foolish enough to try to retaliate was as good as dead. Then he could go off in search of the Dragon Booster and Mortis, though if his guesses were correct, they'd likely be waiting for him.

He knew he'd have a bit of a problem when the shields came down. As much as he loathed Parm for saying it, what he said was true. Word's wraiths were cannon fodder, and today it was in the numbers of his army that he expected to win.

He watched appraisingly as his army's attacks continued without pause, knowing full well that the shields could not hold forever.

"Master," a raspy voice came from his VIDDconsole.

"Yes?" Word answered and had to tear his eyes from the magnificent display of power before him to turn his attention to the human wraith.

"There is-" The wraith was cut short as he was blasted from his saddle.

Word leaned in close with full attention. "What?"

Through the still active VIDDscreen Word saw a Prophet leap onto the wraith and accidentally cut the VIDDscreen off with a slash of its hind feet.

"Unbelievable," Word gasped incredulously. "Now of all times!" He opened another line and barked to the VIDDscreen. "Send the rear flank to deal with that nuisance!" He cut it off before the wraith could answer.

He looked up at the softly humming shield that continued to absorb his troop's attacks. He paused, eyes twitching and fists clenched tight. He hated to leave a job undone. He sighed as he activated several controls. Behind him, large footprints were they only indication of what waited in eager anticipation.

"We'll be back shortly," Word hissed to the besieged city.

* * *

The electric sound of so much energy hitting the shields nearly drowned out Kitt's voice as she instructed those around her.

"Keep the flares on standby and don't break from the formation unless I say so!" she had to yell to make sure everyone heard her. They were avoiding using the COMMlinks as much as they could for fear Word might hack into them, and since her squad was nearby there was no need to chance it

"Aim for the control gear and watch when your energy lev…," Kitt trailed off when the world went silent and her voice echoed throughout the courtyard. She cringed slightly at yelling so loudly when there was no background noise to overcome. "Wha?" she turned around.

No energy was hitting the barrier and the city was eerily silent. Kitt turned Wyldfyr around so that they were facing the quiet walls. Her eyes searched for a reason, but over the height of the walls could see none.

Her VIDDscreen flickered to life. "Mom?"

"Parm," she said, all too intent on the situation before her. " What's you- wait, Hoph?" Kitt's eyes jumped down to the screen, where Hoph's head was turned slightly up and away from the screen, no doubt looking at the energy shield.

"Why'd they stop attacking?"

Kitt gripped the handles a bit tighter than before. "Hoph, is something wrong?" she asked as the silence foreboded something terrible.

"Oh, um," Hoph replied quickly and paused before continuing, " you-know-who said that half of the who-know-what are in the you-know-where." He grinned at the screen.

Kitt suppressed a grin and rubbed her forehead. "Alright thank you, Hoph."

"So," Hoph continued, moving from foot to foot uneasily, "why'd they stop."

"We don't know," Kitt answered, eyes surveying the quiet shield as she moved Wyldfyr to go speak with her lieutenant.. "Now get into the tunnel."

"I'm with Artha. Can I stay with him outside, please? I'm helping him."

Kitt looked down at the screen to see Hoph's pleading face. "Look Hoph," she said, "as soon as we have even one wraith breach the walls you get into that tunnel."

Hoph seemed to think over whether trying to argue with his mother would benefit him, but in the end he agreed without further question. "Okay, Mom."

"And Hoph? Take Artha with you."

Hoph glanced over to his left. "Okaaay, but I can't promise anything."

Kitt frowned slightly. What was Artha doing? Now was not the time for him to be stubborn. "Do your best. I'll see you later, honey."

"Yeah. See ya!" He exited the call with a quick smile for her.

Kitt pushed the handles further forward and focused her attention on her job at hand. At least the evacuation was going smoothly. If Word continued to attack the shields with as much power as he had been doing, then they would be able to keep it up until the very last of the humans and dragons made it into the tunnel. That was the ideal scenario, but Word had quit his assault and that only served to make Kitt nervous as to why.

Elsewhere Parm stood, back straight and head upturned, to stare relentlessly at the shield. Word was up to something, and though his pause gave time for the people to escape, Parm knew that he'd take the barrage of energy over this stillness any day. His eyes narrowed. Was Word preparing a huge weapon? No, what preparation would need all the wraiths to cease fire? "_Scales." _Parm glared at the slight blue hue of the shield. "_Just what is Word doing?"_ He couldn't counteract if he didn't know what it was he needed to stop in the first place.

He looked to his side and said sharply, "well? What does he see?"

The man standing there held his right hand up with his VIDDscreen on, his face as troubled as Parm's. He looked up to the wall, and as Parm followed his gaze he knew that the slow update on the COMMlink was not good at all. The people and dragons that were stationed on the wall furtively tried to peer through the shield, but try as they might the other side was too distorted by the energy to discern anything. All of their outside cameras and sensors had been destroyed, and as it stood, they were blind to what Word was now dong.

The man beside Parm finally shook his head. "He can't get through. They really did a number on them out there."

"So every single sensory device is out." The man beside Parm made a small grunt at his musings. "Bravo Word," Parm said, voice barely above a whisper. "Now how on Draconis did you know where they all were?"

* * *

Mortis sat on Tyrannis Pax as the last line of defense against the people; far enough from Word to be of any use in that respect, but close enough to ensure that the plan went smoothly. He sighed, but resigned to his station quietly. He would see some action yet tonight, he could feel it. Word was a devious fighter, and the calm always came before the storm.

Over his shoulder he could see the mass of people and dragons filtering into the building, and if he looked hard enough he could see Artha nearly begging people not to bring every single item from their home with them. Connor smiled faintly as he watched Artha. He wondered if he would ever stop feeling so relieved at having Artha alive.

His smile slowly faded from his face as all the happiness he felt morphed into sadness. Seeing Artha again, so unchanged and normal, only amplified how empty that space beside him was. The space that should've held Lance as he either helped his brother or intentionally caused mischief was so glaringly void, and the longer Connor stared at his eldest son the more he felt a yearning for his youngest. Lance leaving was his fault, Connor knew. He blamed him for leaving Artha to die, and even years after Lance had bluntly shouted that heart breaking fact to his face, Connor still felt the sting. He should've done more…somehow. Connor wasn't sure exactly what he could've done, had he been given the chance to go back in time, but he knew that his duty as a father called for it. He had lost his oldest son and then he had lost his youngest.

But Artha had returned. Connor clenched his jaw and felt hope rising again. If Artha could defy all odds and return, then Lance could too. Connor only hoped he would forgive him; he couldn't bear to feel like this any longer.

* * *

Sycundys was thrown from the wraith and landed on her side, pausing only to regain her breath before she jumped back up to her feet. She hissed at the sharp pain in her side, only to barely miss a wraith's claw as it swept through the air where her head had been. She rammed her shoulder against his and took advantage of his momentary lapse of balance. Opening her jaws wide she tore through the hard metal and sparking wiring and pulled back, not releasing her grip until the vile device was ripped from the dragon, who was really just a prisoner.

She spat it out and pinpointed her next opponent, this time a human wraith and dragon. The human sneered at her and brought his mag-staff in a fighting stance. Sycundys could only feel disgust for the creature. Even as wraiths the humans controlled the dragons.

The dragon she had freed previously had gone, running frightened into the forest, the only place that had no fighting. The Prophets had other dragons in the forest, not participating in battle, but instead waiting for the freed wraiths, who they would then round up and provide aid, food and freedom. The humans, however….

Sycundys fired off a mag-blast which was met by the wraiths'. With their energy still competing for dominance, they raced towards each other. Not moving during battle was a death warrant, which only the stupid signed. Generally wraiths tended to stand still while countering her mag-streams with one of their own. This was a rare moment indeed.

Sycundys and the wraith both ended their streams at the same time, and as the wraiths lunged forward with his jaws and claws, Sycundys darted to the left to avoid the mag-staff.

The human snarled, held up his staff and his wraith turned to face Sycundys once again, but instantly found his weapon nearly stolen from his grip by another Prophet who had leapt over the wraith to grab it. Using the distraction to her advantage, Sycundys dashed to the other side and grabbed the human with her teeth and threw him from the saddle. As the other Prophet hurriedly took the wraith control off the poor dragon, Sycundys looked around for her next target. She didn't bother with the human; they never lasted long without a dragon, especially not in the midst of a battle.

"Sycundys!" a voice cried out. She swung her head around to find the source.

"K-Oz, what is it?" she asked impatiently as he ran up, avoiding the escalating battle around them.

"Temporary fall back. Word's sending down more wraiths from the front to deal with us."

"Do not tell me what to do!" she snapped and bared her teeth at a wraith that was advancing closer. "Where's Propheci."

K-Oz flicked his tail irritably and mag-blasted the human. "I don't know. I went ahead to catch up to him and I caught him as he was returning. He said he saw the wraiths attacking a small city of some sort, it's difficult to see through all these trees, but he said it had a mag-shield as well as pretty good fortifications. He saw Abanddonn and Word Paynn."

"Word Paynn himself? I wonder what's so special about that city…where is Propheci now?"

"He went back to keep an eye on things."

"Idiot," Sycundys murmured, and K-Oz wasn't quite sure if it was directed to Propheci or himself. Probably himself, he thought and mentally shook his head at the thought of Sycundys ever insulting Propheci. "What did I do?"

She glared at him. "Leaving him like that? What were you thinking? You know he's going to go after Word." She practically spat out the last word, and K-Oz shut his mouth and decided that attempting to place the blame on someone else was best in this situation, as it usually was in all situations for him.

"Even Propheci's not stupid enough to attempt something like that. There are far too many wraiths."

"When else but in battle is Word even close to being a target for capture?" As K-Oz mused her point Sycundys sighed and snapped her teeth at him "Well If Word has decided to be rid of us before he goes back to his previous plans, we'd best fall back and reorganize ourselves. You'll go back to Propheci and I'll meet up with you shortly. We'll try another attack later."

K-Oz nodded and raced from his spot. Sycundys watched him go but soon lost him in the chaos of battle. She spread word to the other Prophets and ran from the battle before the incoming wraiths overpowered them all.

Word and Abanddonn set their sights once more on the wall. Of all the times for the Prophets to attack, it had to be during the sweetest battle of them all. Of course, attacking a larger army such as Word's was normally suicide, but he was currently engaged in his own battle and he didn't want to waste any time or more wraiths to hunting them down. They probably knew that, hence the sneak attack. They wouldn't try again until it suited them, provided his wraiths didn't injure them too much. He was sure the Gold Empire wasn't on any sort of friendly terms with the Prophets, and since there was no way for them to have known he was coming, it was likely just a small company of Prophets travelling from one outpost to another, and from what he had seen of their numbers he felt safe in assuming he was right. If they thought they could get away with another attack later, he would simply crush them. But right now, however, he had unfinished business to attend to. His vengeance would not be stopped now.

He grinned as the wraiths once again fell into formation.

* * *

As the sun neared the end of its course through the sky, Kitt found herself hanging on the calls from Parm and the Intel Division. It was difficult not knowing what was going on out there. The atmosphere from when the battle had been raging had been far less tense than it was right now, and Kitt wasn't sure how much more of it they could take before it drove them all crazy. But it was giving them precious minutes, and those were invaluable, so long as the backlash wasn't completely out of their ability to control.

As Wyldfyr paced of his own accord, Kitt tapped her finger against the console. Suddenly, he stopped. Kitt usually thought nothing of Wyldfyr's habit to pace, but when every other dragon froze in their tracks as well, it was time to take heed.

Two things happened at once. A number of large streams of mag energy hit the shield, and the sound drowned out the noise of the Earth-class wraiths as they emerged from beneath the wall. Kitt averted her eyes from the shield and ducked as a wraith, still only halfway out of the tunnel it dug, threw a mag stream her way. Wyldfyr knocked it back with a mag burst of his own.

The wraith screamed and heaved itself out, seemingly pushed out by something else. It ploughed through the last bit of rock and dirt obstructing its way and shook it off. Riderless, it stepped fully into the city. Kitt noticed the same thing happen with all the other Earth-class wraiths that were just emerging from their holes. She held her mag-staff up and tensed her muscles as other wraiths clawed and swarmed their way through.

"We have a breach under the walls!" she yelled, pressing a button on the side of her helmet as Wyldfyr deflected the numerous mag streams. "Parm, they came underneath the wall. We need you to-"

"Kitt!" Parm replied through her helmet. "That's just a diversion."

"What?" Kitt immediately looked up at the shield, where the mag streams were still focused on it. Kitt could only count a few dozen of them, a far cry from the number before, but the power of them was staggering. "How is the shield faring?"

"If this keeps up it'll go in a minute or so. I'll need to prepare for them when that comes down," Parm said, referring to the new wraiths that would surely come. Kitt looked back to the wraiths before her, wraiths whose primary job was to keep Parm and the others from readying themselves for the real attack.

"Gotcha, we'll handle these guys then."

"Kitt? You don't think…."

"Elite wraiths? It has to be."

"But Word can't control those many at that amount of power at once."

"We'll find out soon enough." Kitt shot out a mag blast and knocked down a wraith who had leapt up, trying to reach her lofty perch on Wyldfyr's saddle. Wyldfyr threw wraiths with his arms as his mag streams cleared away those who weren't foolish enough to come close. Kitt opened the channel to Parm one last time, and paused only slightly before saying, "good luck. I'll see you when this is over."

Parm's voice came after a few seconds hesitation, sounding static and low from interference, but his determination remained audible. "Count on it."

* * *

Artha leaned against the side of the armoury and looked up at the shield. He couldn't see much of it, save for what was directly above him, but he could tell the attacks had begun again. The slowly darkening sky made the shield all the more noticeable, and the blue hue it cast over the city was surprisingly calming. The attacks from Word's wraiths, if they were strong enough, would cast ripples that Artha could see from his post just outside the Armoury. Lately, however, the entire shield would brighten for split second, reminding Artha of lightning. It set him on edge, but perhaps this was normal for the shield to do so. Even so, as time passed and more people proceeded into the tunnel, he became more fidgety. He searched for Thruust with his eyes and edged through the crowd toward him, simply wishing that this would be over soon.

"How much longer?" Artha asked as he approached, impatience beginning to creep up on him.

Thruust spared him an angry glance. "Till what? Till we get overrun or-"

"Until everyone's in the tunnel!" Artha nearly yelled. "How much longer?"

Thruust gave him the type of look you would normally give a rotten apple and swept his gaze over the crowd as he spoke. "Hard to tell, but as long as everything moves smoothly we…." Thruust trailed off as one by one all the lights inside the armoury and surrounding buildings went out. Both Artha and he stared at them, though Artha considerably less worried than he. "Not now, scales, it's too soon!"

"What?" Artha asked as Thruust rushed off. "Too soon for what?" He struggled to keep up with him through the thick crowd.

"Look around you, fool," Thruust replied irritably without looking back or even slowing his pace.

Artha glared at his back but did as he said. Everywhere a light had been on, whether it was the street lights just flickering to life, the lonely light in a soon to be abandoned building or the bright lights leading the way to the tunnel, were shutting off.

Artha stopped abruptly and looked around worriedly. Cries echoed from the tunnel as surprised humans and dragons were suddenly thrust into blackness. "What, what happened? Thruust!"

Rushing forward double time and guided only by the light from the shield, Artha pushed his way through the crowd and clapped a hand on Thruust's shoulder, forcing him to stop. "What?" Thruust snapped.

"What's going on?"

"I'm a little busy right now, in case you've not noticed, Artha Penn." Thruust placed emphasis on the last words and turned to leave. Artha fumed and tightened his grip, having had enough of Thruust's attitude towards him.

"Tell me now! I have to know!" Artha said forcefully.

"Why? Because you're the Dragon Booster?" Thruust eyed him for a moment. "I outrank you boy, and I will not have some snivelling little child who thinks he's above everyone in this city getting in the way! I have work to do and you're slowing me down. All you need to concern yourself now is helping those people and dragons get into the tunnel safely, and then getting in yourself." Thruust leaned in closer to drive the next words home. "Leave the fighting to the ones who are capable of doing it."

Artha gritted his teeth. "Don't speak to me like I'm some sort of kid. I can fight too!"

"Not now you can't. Not in this fight, and not in this entire war," Thruust shouted at him. "You're nothing to those guys out there. You're a little bug running around underfoot. You haven't seen battle and you don't know how to fight at their level. The title of Dragon Booster means nothing if you're…this." Thruust finished off with a gesture at Artha.

"But-," Artha began before he was cut off by Thruust.

"If you want to be the Dragon Booster and save everyone, start by listening to your superiors. Disobeying reckless orders like this only shows us how much of a child you really are." Before Artha could retort Thruust turned him around and gave a shove that was forceful enough to send him staggering a few steps. "You've wandered too far from your post."

Artha whirled around indignantly. "This has nothing to do with you just telling me what's going on. I know you have something against me, but this is ridiculous."

"Ridiculous? Ridiculous is setting all our hopes and plans on a kid just because some prophecy tells us to. You've done nothing except allow all this to happen! If you were really the Dragon Booster my family would still be alive and I wouldn't be wondering if I'll still be alive tomorrow! How can Connor trust you so much? We've worked _so_ hard just to build up this Empire, and as soon as you come we get attacked. You…you're just a kid, you haven't done anything, how can you stop an entire war?"

Artha lowered his eyes to the ground and stared at it. "The original Dragon Booster did it," he mumbled.

"Yes, but you aren't the original Dragon Booster, are you? Last time I checked you were Artha Penn."

Artha raised his eyes to look Thruust in the face and found only contempt. Thruust cleared his throat, suddenly all too aware of his lapse in control. "I need to discuss some urgent matters with the others," he said flatly, avoiding Artha's eyes. "You would do well to get back to your post and prepare to enter the tunnel yourself." Without another word he stalked away and left Artha standing. Artha stared at his retreating back, even as Thruust disappeared from sight and Hoph came to lead him back to the Armoury.

Slowly, the blue light faded as the shields finally fell.


End file.
